


Love Hurts

by sentinel28II



Category: RWBY
Genre: Big Sister Boob Check, Blake writes smut too, Coitus Interruptus, Comedy, Crack, Don't mess with Salem, Dreams, Elaborate Plans, Emerald backstory, Emerald likes spanking, F/F, F/M, First Times, Fourth wall shattered into tiny pieces, Gen, Ghost Pyrrha, Happy Huntresses - Freeform, I have broken the ship generator, Jacques' desk needs cleaning, Jaune is going to die, Jinn's kind of a perv, Maria gives good advice, Maria is Dr. Ruth, Maybe Salem just needs to get laid, Meta, Mild Season 8 spoilers, More shipping than the Battle of the Atlantic, Most of the time, My girlfriend is a robot, Neo is best girlfriend, Not even sure some of these ships exist, Or Ozpin, Oscar Loves Ruby, Painful Semblances, Penny could be real, Pillow Fights, Practice safe fanfics, Qrow's Bad Luck, Raven isn't all bad, RoseGarden, Ruby Rose is a killer, Ruby maybe likes being tied up, Ruby really likes cookies, Salem's plans always go wrong, Seriously this is comedy, Sex Toys, Steamy shower scene (sort of), Sweet fluffy fun, Team JNPR - Freeform, Team RWBY - Freeform, Team STRQ - Freeform, The Long Memory is not a sex toy, The Lusty Adventures of Blake and Yang, The feels, Threesome - F/F/M, Tinder, Video killed the Schnee star, What Hath Science Wrought, World of Darkness, Wrestling, Yang's robot arm, and Oscar, dragonslayer, girl talk, hot thirsty moms, i need to stop writing smut, nah, poor Oscar, poor penny, power perversion potential, snowbird, so does Penny, sometimes, the best laid plans, the internet is for porn, threesome (kind of), vibration function, weird wet dreams, wet dreams, white knight - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:15:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 82
Words: 231,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21884344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentinel28II/pseuds/sentinel28II
Summary: All of the heroes and villains of RWBY have Semblances.  Those powers keep them alive and make them what they are.  But having a Semblance can also be a real pain--all over your body, if you're not careful.  And some can be used in very interesting fashion in the bedroom.Don't act like no one ever thought of it.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Adam Taurus, Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Cinder Fall/Emerald Sustrai, Cinder Fall/Pyrrha Nikos, Cinder Fall/Salem, Cinder Fall/Taiyang Xiao Long, Flynt Coal/Weiss Schnee, Glynda Goodwitch/James Ironwood, Ilia Amitola/Yang Xiao Long, James Ironwood/Salem, Jaune Arc/Pyrrha Nikos, Jaune Arc/Pyrrha Nikos/Weiss Schnee, Jaune Arc/Weiss Schnee, Jaune Arc/Yang Xiao Long, Lie Ren/Nora Valkyrie, Lie Ren/Salem, Marrow Amin/Robyn Hill, Neopolitan/Oscar Pine, Neopolitan/Roman Torchwick, Oscar Pine/Ruby Rose, Penny Polendina/Whitley Schnee, Qrow Branwen/Winter Schnee, Qrow Branwen/Winter Schnee/Robyn Hill, Raven Branwen/Summer Rose/Taiyang Xiao Long, Ruby Rose/Weiss Schnee, Salem/Emerald Sustrai, Salem/ozma, Summer Rose/Taiyang Xiao Long, Whitley Schnee/Penny Polendina, Yatsuhashi Daichi/Velvet Scarlatina
Comments: 520
Kudos: 474





	1. I Never Promised You a Rosegarden

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes the muse simply cannot be controlled. She may lie dormant for months or even years, and then something clicks and she appears in a frenzy of writing. Sometimes the muse will use her powers for good, and I am compelled to create such wonderful, action-packed stories like "On RWBY Wings" (now posting daily on AO3, totally not a plug). Sometimes the muse will use her powers for love, and I will write such beautiful and occasionally (okay, almost always) awkward tales such as "One Night in Atlas." Also not a plug.
> 
> And sometimes the muse gets roaring drunk, uses her powers for silliness, and something like this appears. It's not my fault, I swear. And I'm capable of writing more than smut! Really!

Jaune Arc kicked back and relaxed. The combined strength of Team RWBY, JNPR (which now had Penny Polendina among its ranks), and Ace Ops had defeated Salem’s attempt to derail the launching of Amity Tower. Of course, that would bring its own share of issues, since now the world knew that it was under threat from an immortal Grimm Queen, but Jaune reckoned that tomorrow could take care of itself. For now, it was not his problem and not his beringals.

It was also late. Once the battle was over, the badly battered Team RWBY had retired to nurse their wounds and get some rest. JNPR wasn’t in much better shape, but they volunteered to help Ace Ops clean up the mess that Arthur Watts and Tyrian Callows had left behind. It was now well after midnight, so Jaune decided he would unwind by watching a movie on his Scroll—Spruce Willis had released _Try Hard 3: Now That’s a Katana_ , and Jaune hadn’t seen it yet. As he settled onto his bed at Atlas Academy, Jaune considered inviting Weiss Schnee over, then dismissed it. The poor girl had taken more than a few hits, and she needed her rest.

There was a knock at the door. Jaune looked up from his Scroll. “Yeah?”

“Jaune? It’s Oscar. Do you have a minute?”

“Oh, sure! Come on in, man. It’s open.”

Oscar Pine walked in and closed the door behind him. He had on his pants, but that was all—no shirt and no shoes, not even the orange gloves the former farmer habitually wore. He looked utterly spent. Jaune could understand why: Oscar had dived into the fight without hesitation, taking on Watts’ hacked Atlesian Knights with Ozpin’s cane. It was a lot for a young man to take, all the more impressive since Oscar didn’t have a Semblance. Oscar seemed on the verge of collapse. He was limping, wincing with every step. “You okay?” Jaune asked.

“No.”

“You need to go to the hospital?” Jaune wondered if Oscar needed some help getting there.

“Not sure yet. Just wanted to know…you can help people’s Aura heal, right? You did that with Weiss.”

Jaune nodded. “Yeah, I can do that. Not really a doctor or healer or anything, but I can kind of jumpstart your Aura to help you heal faster. But if you’re in that bad of shape, you really need to go to the hospital. The Schnees will pay for it—“

Oscar decided to show rather than tell. Before Jaune could stop him, he unzipped and dropped his pants. He wore nothing beneath the pants. “What the hell, Oscar?! I don’t want to see that--“ Jaune began, but then he saw in horror Oscar’s flaccid member. It looked like it had been run through a wringer. There were no open wounds, but it was bright red, as if it was sunburned. His groin looked bruised, as did his testicles, which seemed a bit swollen on top of it. “Holy cats, Oscar!” Jaune exclaimed. “What happened to you? Did a Grimm nut shot you and we didn’t notice?”

“No, a Grimm didn’t hit me.” Oscar sighed, and he flinched with the pain. He covered himself with his hands, but was careful not to touch. “So we just fought a big battle, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Barely survived, again.” 

“Oh yeah. You really did great today, Oscar. I mean, Ruby would be hurt or dead if you hadn’t one-shotted that robot. But that doesn’t explain—“

“About Ruby. You know we’ve gotten really close, right?”

“Well, sure. She really likes you.”

“Tonight, after we got back, she wanted to take our relationship to the next level.”

“Oh yeah?” Jaune grinned. He was always happy to hear when one of his friends found love. He hadn’t been very lucky in that regard himself. “Congrats, Oscar! Ruby is a great girl. I hope you guys can…” The light came on in Jaune’s head. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Oscar painfully sat down. “It was Ruby’s first time, and she got on top, and well…she got a little…enthusiastic. Making love on a bed of rose petals was nice, but the speed…” Oscar bit back tears. “The speed, Jaune. The _friction._ ”

“Her _Semblance_ went off?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Jaune was sickened. It would’ve been like having sex with a blender. Set on puree. “Wasn’t there…well…lubrication?”

“Sure, but it didn’t help. I think it might’ve made it a little worse. It was like hot oil, you know, down there.” He nodded towards his crotch. “Anyway, can you help me heal this?”

Jaune picked up his scroll and began dialing for emergency services. “No way. That needs a professional, and I’m not getting anywhere near that. Besides, you need protection.”

“Ruby said she had one of those new Atlesian injections.”

“Not from getting Ruby pregnant,” Jaune warned. “From—“

The door suddenly caved in. Standing in the threshold was an enraged Yang, hair glowing, eyes burning an unholy red. “ _OSCAR!”_

Jaune calmly got up and walked to the opposite side of the room. “—from that,” he finished. 

Yang’s eyes fixed onto Oscar, and if they could glow any hotter, they did when they saw his pants around his ankles. “Don’t bother running,” she hissed. “You’ll only die tired.”

Deep within Oscar’s mind, Ozpin sighed. He hoped his next incarnation would be older and wiser. He also knew he was likely to find out in about five seconds.


	2. Burning For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang and Blake have been lovers for a few weeks. They've decided to experiment. With toys. Made of Atlesian technology. Which hopefully Watts can't hack, which would be very awkward.
> 
> But not as awkward as fire.

“Ohhh, gods,” Yang Xiao Long breathed. “Blake, you’ve got to try this.”

Blake Belladonna leaned on one hand and smiled mischeviously. The other hand held something long and hard that vibrated, and was lodged firmly inside her lover. It was a fusion between Atlas technology and Vacuo perversion, the ultimate in sex toys. Ever since Blake and Yang had decided to take their relationship to the lover stage, they had also decided to experiment. After all, life was short. The Super All-Purpose Stimulator 9000 had been expensive, but Blake had charged it to the Schnee Dust Company as a “relaxation tool” for “combat stress.” Weiss would never rat on her friends, and Winter would never know. 

Not only did the SAPS 9000 use the standard vibration function, it included a VR visor linked to the user’s Scroll. While the vibrator did its thing, the VR visor gave the user any sort of fantasy they wanted to see. Yang refused to even fantasize about anyone but Blake—she felt it would make a mockery of the love they had—and so she was immersed in a fantasy where Blake was an armored space alien with an absurdly long tongue, and Yang was a high school student with a skirt so short that bending over ended the mystery. Blake could follow the action on her Scroll and even interact a bit. She thought it more hilarious than titillating, but Yang liked it, and that was what counted. 

While Blake still had on her underwear, Yang was naked and already covered in a sheen of sweat. _“Aha,”_ Virtual Evil Alien Blake cackled, _“nowhere to run now, Miss Xiao Long! Now I will break your mind as I take your body! You shall become my slave of lust! Muwahahaha!”_

“’Slave of lust’?” Blake questioned. “Who writes this corn?”

“Shhh!” Yang told her. “This has got to be the good part.”

The VR gave her several options to choose from:

1) _I’ll never give into you, foul beast! Do your worst!_ Yang didn’t like that one. Calling Blake a beast was too much like making fun of her Faunus heritage.

2) _My mind is saying no, but my body is saying yes! Ravage me!_ Yang didn’t like that one either. She didn’t quit in real life, so she wasn’t going to do it in virtual life.

3) _Fuck you, asshole._ That seemed too derivative.

4) _I can take whatever you can dish out, Evil Alien Blake. Let’s see who screams first._ “That one,” Yang said aloud. With a blink of her eyes, she selected Option 4, and heard her virtual self say it in her voice. 

“Not bad,” Blake agreed. She had the Partner Option on her Scroll, and it advised her to turn up the vibrator. The levels were Slow and Steady, Harder But Sweet, Screw Me Like the Government, Pound Me Like a Grimm, and Global Thermonuclear War. Right now it was on Slow and Steady, so Blake turned the dial to Harder But Sweet. Yang groaned a little as the vibration sped up slightly. In the VR, Evil Alien Blake had already pinned her against a wall and pressed a vibrating silver appendage against her most sensitive area, but now EAB tore Yang’s virtual panties aside and rubbed the appendage against her labia. 

“C’mon, Blake,” Yang said, grinning. “This is nothing. Hit me with your best shot.”

“Are you sure? The manual didn’t advise going to the higher settings on the first use.”

“Screw the manual. I’m a Huntress. Go for it.”

“All right.” Blake turned the vibrator to Screw Me Like the Government. In the VR world, Evil Alien Blake not only tore off the rest of High School Yang’s clothes, leaving nothing but erotically-placed rags, but also removed her own armor. Blake’s eyebrows went up at that—the EVB was a _lot_ more well-endowed than she was in real life. They went up even further when EVB knelt in front of the helpless HSY and unrolled a three-foot tongue. “They weren’t kidding about that being absurd. If I had a tongue that long, I wouldn’t need you, Yang.” Her eyes widened as the tongue stiffened and shot into HSY like a bullet fired from Crescent Rose. “Holy schneet.”

Yang gasped. “Oooh, _wow!”_ Her hips began to buck. “Ahh…Blake…more.”

“More? Yang, I don’t think—“

“Do it! I want it! I want it _now!”_

Blake wondered if she was making a gigantic mistake, but did as she was asked, and turned the SAPS 9000 up another notch. Yang came off the bed and bit back a scream, and thrust so hard against the vibrator that Blake was very happy that it was made out of a titanium-steel alloy. “Oh, gods, Blake! Harder! _Harder!”_ In the VR, Evil Alien Blake’s tongue had corkscrewed and was whirring like the drill on the Colossus. EVB’s clawed fingers pawed at High School Yang’s perky breasts, which, Blake reflected, were actually pretty good reproductions of the real article. “Please, Blake!” Yang begged, which caused Blake to swallow audibly. 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Blake said, and went to full power. Yang’s eyes turned red and went wide, and a smile the Joker would be uncomfortable with spread across her face. “Blaaaaaake…this is…fucking….” Her eyes rolled back. “Aweeeesoooome…” 

Blake carefully set down her Scroll—Evil Alien Blake was turning into Vaguely Disturbing Tentacle Monster Blake on the VR, and if there was an orifice on High School Yang’s body that wasn’t being invaded, she couldn’t tell—and walked into the dorm room’s bathroom. 

“Blaaaaake!” Yang yelled. “I’m gonna…gonna…aaaa _aaaaahhhhhh…”_

While Yang squirmed and screamed with the sweet torture she was going through, Blake calmly looked through the cabinets, found what she was looking for, and walked back into the room. The feeling was so intense Yang had lost both coherent thought and basic motor functions. The Faunus waited as Yang’s moans rose in intensity. All of Atlas Academy—for that matter, all of Remnant—was going to hear Yang’s moon-shattering orgasm, but Blake figured that muffling her lover was already a lost cause. 

“And here we go,” Blake sighed. Yang’s blonde hair went to a bright yellow and flames erupted around it. The pillow caught fire, as did the headboard. Blake leaned forward and put out the flames with the handheld fire extinguisher, then carefully removed the SAPS 9000 from Yang, switching it off. The brawler sank down into the scorched sheets, shakily reached up and took off the VR headset, and looked quizzically at her hands, covered in white stuff. “Er, Blake? I get that the VR experience is the best, but I didn’t think it came with bukka---“

Blake put a hand over Yang’s mouth. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Yang nodded, and Blake took her hand away. 

Yang got up, looked at the ruined pillows and headboard. “Oh. Um…oops.” She grinned up at her friend, foam dangling from her nose and all over her hair. “Well, that answers _that_ question, huh?” She pushed the VR headset towards Blake. “Good thing you got the waterproof option. You want to go?”

Blake fixed her with a yellow-eyed, glowing stare. “You mean you want me to take off my clothes, put that damn thing on, and then have my senses bombarded with the Brothers alone know what images, while you turn that frigging vibrator up to the point that I risk losing my ability to ever have children?”

Yang shrugged. “We could do Yang the Angel fights Blake in her Eva.”

Blake snatched the VR visor from her. “You’re damn right I want to go!”


	3. Cold as Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake can create clones of herself--shadow clones, fire clones, ice clones. Is there anything that could possibly go wrong with leaving a Blake clone out around a horny Yang?
> 
> Nah.

Blake Belladonna yawned as she walked back to Team RWBY’s quarters at Atlas Academy. It had been a long day riding shotgun out to where Amity Arena was being modified, and she was exhausted. Blake wanted nothing more than to put on her yukata, crawl into bed, knock out a few chapters of _One Night in Atlas_ (which is totally not a plug, but you should go read it), and get some sleep. Making matters worse was that she had stayed up far too late last night, because she simply could not stop reading the part where the heiress loses her virginity to the heroic knight, which is in "Melt With You," now available on AO3 and in fine stores everywhere. 

As she reached the front entrance, her Scroll buzzed. She unrolled it and saw it was a message from Yang. _Hey Blakey. Rubes and Weissy are out for a few hours talking to Pietro. We’re alone. Let’s play around. Waiting for you. XOXOXO_

Blake sighed. While the thought of getting her ashes hauled by her lover was appealing, Blake was so tired that she didn’t think she was up for a few hours of getting banged by Yang. Falling asleep while Yang explored Blake’s genitalia through the Braille system would be an insult to her best friend. As much as she hated to do it, she was going to have to say no. She still had things to do before she could even get to the yukata part.

She just wished she could remember what they were. Something had been bugging Blake all day, something she knew she had forgotten to do before leaving the room that morning. As she rode the elevator up to the dorms, she checked her Scroll again to see if Ruby or Weiss had sent her anything. There was nothing from Ruby, but there was something from Weiss, sent just after lunchtime: _Blake, quit leaving your clones just standing around. You know Ice Dust doesn’t melt. This thing is standing in the middle of our room._

“Oh _shit!”_ As soon as the elevator doors opened, Blake ran down the hallway, wishing she had Ruby’s semblance. She skidded to a halt in front of the door, quickly ran her key through the lock, and opened the door. Then she covered her eyes.

That morning, to test some new Dust capsules she had gotten from Winter Schnee, Blake had created an ice clone of herself. She had thought she had dissipated it before she left, but in her haste and her exhaustion, Blake had completely forgotten. Nonetheless, dissipating it was not too difficult.

Or it would be if Yang Xiao Long wasn’t attached to it. And if Yang Xiao Long wasn’t naked and frozen to the ice clone’s lips. 

“Oh, thay, Blakth!” Yang said, waving towards the Faunus. “Yeth, thith ith prethy muchth whath ith looksth like.”

Blake massaged her temples. “You stripped naked, and decided to hump my ice clone.”

“Yeah, pretthyth muchth.” Yang tried to get her tongue free of Ice Blake’s lips, but stopped, wincing in pain.

“Why?” Blake asked. “I mean, my clone isn’t even naked!” It was true: Ice Blake was fully clothed in Blake’s new battle uniform.

“Wellth,” Yang thaid—er, said, “I thoughth ith wold thurn you onth.” Yang rubbed herself against Ice Blake. Though Yang’s nipples were very nicely erect, Blake didn’t think the sight was particularly erotic, but somewhat disturbing. “I’ll admith thath ith thounded bethter in mah headth.” Yang shrugged. “Geth thome warm wather.”

“I have a better idea.” Blake made sure the door was shut, prayed Ruby and Weiss would not pick that time to come in, and walked over behind the brawler. Yang tried to follow her with her eyes, but couldn’t turn her head due to being stuck. Blake _could_ just dissipate the clone, but was worried that something could happen to Yang—she’d never dissipated a clone that some living thing was stuck to. She sighed, drew back her hand, and smacked Yang across the rear.

“Owth!” Yang yelled. “Whath tha thuck, Blakth? I donth like tho be spankth—“ Blake hit her again. _“Owth!_ Dammith, Blakth!” A third time. “Sthopth ith!” A fourth. Yang, enraged, tried to squirm free, and as Blake readied for a fifth smack, Yang’s hair glowed, her eyes turned red, and Blake stepped back as the heat melted the ice clone enough for Yang to get loose. It also drenched Yang’s upper half in cold water.

“Brrr! Blake!” Yang shouted. She touched her rear, which was a bit red. “Not sure what’s worse—getting my boobs soaked in ice or getting my ass spanked!”

“I’m sorry,” Blake told her. “But I don’t even know if warm water would work on Ice Dust, and I couldn’t dissipate it without maybe hurting you.” She bent over and kissed both rounded globes of Yang’s derriere. “That better?”

“Yeah, I guess," Yang sulked.

“Well, it was your own fault for doing something dumb!” Blake returned. “What possessed you to do that?”

“Hey, when I’m in the zone, I can’t be held responsible.” Yang slapped Blake’s butt. “There. Now we’re even.”

Blake and Yang then stared down at the clone. The heat from Yang had melted it partially, so only the legs were left, but now there was also a puddle of cold water on the floor. “Great,” the Faunus said. “How are we going to explain this to Ruby and Weiss?”

“You got me really wet?” Yang grinned.


	4. I Want To Break Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang asks Weiss if she's ever considered using her Semblance for sex. Weiss thinks that's an utterly preposterous notion that only a lust-crazed maniac like Yang would ever think of.
> 
> Or is it?

It was one of the few free afternoons Team RWBY had at Atlas. While Yang and Blake fought to the (metaphorical) death playing Super Murder Death Kill 7 on their Scrolls, Weiss sat in her bed, combing her hair into the long ponytail she had adopted as of late. It took a lot of care to maintain it, even if it wasn’t particularly sensible—Ruby swore that one day a Grimm was going to step on it in battle—but Weiss liked it. Ruby was out, catching up with Penny. 

“So Weiss,” Yang said, being the one to usually start conversations like this, “have you ever thought about Power Perversion Potential?” She dodged one of Blake’s kunoichi attacks and parried it with her samurai.

Weiss was bored enough to play along. “What are you talking about?”

“How your Semblance could be used in the bedroom. You know…for sex.” Blake gave a derisive snort, then had to fight off a flurry of Yang’s attacks.

“Only you would think of that, Yang,” Weiss sighed.

“Ah, come on. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. Take Blake for example,” Yang said, inclining her head towards her current opponent. She didn’t want to admit that part of her reasons for bringing this up was to unsettle the Faunus and make her easier to beat; Yang fought dirty. 

“Please don’t,” Blake pleaded in vain. 

Yang ignored her. “She can create clones, right? So let’s say Blake created a naked clone of herself. She’d never be lonely, because then she could—“

“—play with herself,” Blake groaned. She pummeled Yang’s samurai and took great satisfaction in it. “Is that what you were building up to, Yang?”

Yang soured. That had been _exactly_ what she had been building up to. “You took all the fun out of that.” Then she cursed, because Blake’s next attack took the samurai’s head off in a spray of blood. The kunoichi jumped up and down, flashed a victory sign, then commenced to chopping the samurai into very small pieces. Yang shrugged, shook hands with Blake, and put down her Scroll to talk to Weiss. “But really, Weiss. You never thought of it?”

Weiss laughed sarcastically. “Yes, Yang, because if there’s anything I’ve ever dreamed of, it’s having sex with the various Grimm that I’ve killed over the years. Being taken by a Lancer! Oh my, it’s making me hot just thinking about it!” She fanned herself.

“Not that, dummy,” Yang told her. “The other thing you can do, with your glyphs. You know, you can accelerate yourself, use it to bounce off or slide down things—“

“I fail to see how that would enhance my sexual experience, Yang.”

Yang smiled evilly. “That’s because you have no imagination, Weissy. And you didn’t let me finish. Can’t your Semblance also hold things in place?”

“It can, yes. I still don’t see how that would help, unless I’m having sex on the ceiling.”

That stopped Yang for a second; she hadn’t thought of that one. “Not what I meant.” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, though Blake could hear every word—not that she particularly wanted to. “You could use them to hold someone in place and have your wicked, chilly way with them.”

Weiss rolled her eyes. “And why would I want to do that?”

“I dunno. Just never saw you as a bottom, Weiss. I figured you’d want to be on top.”

The former heiress finished her combing and began working on the braid. “Well, you’re right about that, Yang—I _would_ prefer to be on top. Not that it’s any of your business. But I see no reason to tie someone up. I’ve never needed to. I leave that to you.”

Yang knew that she had taken the joke as far as it would go. Weiss obviously was not into that sort of thing, so Yang faced Blake again with a questioning look. Blake just raised an eyebrow. “No,” she said. 

Jaune Arc was feeling a bit tired. Not quite exhausted, but spending the day practicing with Team FNKI and Nora was enough to make anyone feel worn. Luckily, his newfound ability to strengthen his Aura meant that he was nowhere near as tired as he would’ve been after a sparring session with Pyrrha. Still, it would be nice to curl up in bed for a bit, maybe grab a nap before dinner. He keyed open his room and walked in, setting his shield and sword down as the door closed behind him.

“Hello, Jaune.”

The voice was sultry, warm, and carried enough promise of raw sex that it traveled on a straight line from Jaune’s ears to his groin. Slowly, in utter disbelief, he turned to his bed. There, bathed in the light of the setting sun over Atlas, was Weiss Schnee. A naked Weiss Schnee. 

Jaune’s jaw hit the floor, or would have were that physically possible.

Weiss smiled at him with a smile that would cause civilizations to fall. “Welcome home. As you can tell, I’ve been waiting for you.” She motioned with her head towards her hands—held above that lustrous white hair—and feet—spread apart and resting on the end of the bed. Around her ankles and wrists glowed silver, snowflake glyphs. “Jaune…I can’t move. I can’t resist. I’m yours. Do with me as you will.”

Jaune stared, his eyes running over her perfectly proportioned breasts, the conical nipples hard with desire, the slender waist, the long legs, opened enough for Jaune to see what awaited him. Her feet were clad in the only clothing she wore, her ballerina shoes, because she knew that drove Jaune wild. She resisted the urge to squirm under his gaze, which was turning her on more than she ever had been in her life. His eyes went back to her face, the ice-blue eyes heavy with lust, and she licked her lips in anticipation. “Buh,” Jaune stammered.

“Take me, Jaune Arc. Take me now.” 

Jaune’s eyes rolled up into his head and he fell backwards. His Aura protected him from injury, but his skull still made a resounding thump on the floor. “Jaune?” Weiss asked. “Jaune? Are you all right?” There was no answer. Weiss thumped her own head back into the pillows. “Oh, dammit.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit that I don't know if Weiss' semblance can actually be used like that, but it's reasonable. And it beats her trying to seduce Jaune from the ceiling.
> 
> Besides, I'm saving that idea for later. Poor Jaune.


	5. Time To Play the Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Ruby and Weiss gone on an Amity supply run, Blake and Yang decide to spice up their love life with something new. 
> 
> They never thought it would become something more. Something more...suplexy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This actually was what I was thinking about doing originally with the "Be Near Me" chapter of "One Night in Atlas," until Blake and Yang decided they wanted a more angsty chapter. Seriously. Sometimes these girls really do write themselves, it feels like.
> 
> Note that no Semblances were actually used in the making of this fanfic. Which is undoubtedly a good thing.

“See you later, Sis! ‘Bye, Blake!” Ruby Rose waved as she and Weiss Schnee left the dorm room. It was time for another supply run to Amity Arena, and today Ruby and Weiss were riding shotgun. No one anticipated too many issues, other than perhaps the odd Grimm or two. 

“See ya,” Yang said from her Scroll, with a wave. Blake, engrossed in _Ninjas of Love VI: Show Me Your Katana,_ grunted and waved two fingers. The door shut behind the two Huntresses.

It was silent in the dorm room for about ten minutes. An astute observer would’ve noticed that Yang’s fingers were shaking a bit holding the Scroll, while Blake apparently was reading the same page over and over again. Finally, Yang said, “Okay. They’re gone.”

“Finally.” Blake tossed the book into a corner of the bed. Yang set aside her Scroll. She grinned at at the Faunus. “Race ya.”

“You’re on.” The two quickly stripped out of their clothes. Uniforms, jackets, pants, and underwear landed in piles, and soon Yang and Blake stood naked in the center of the room. Both were trembling a bit. They were used to each other’s nudity by now, but desire was still something new. Nipples got stiff, mouths got dry, and moisture moved further down. Blake tried to calm herself. “You still want to try this?”

“If you want to.”

“Let’s hurry before I change my mind.”

“Okay…” Yang picked up her Scroll again. “So…tribadism, aka, scissoring.” She got down on the floor and raised one leg. Blake, swallowing nervously, did the same. They scooted towards each other. The object of the exercise was to bring their vulvas together and then rub them against each other, causing friction and stimulating the clitoris. At least that was what Remnantpedia said was supposed to happen. 

Blake accidentally rode up on Yang’s leg. “Ow!” the blonde gasped.

“Sorry.” She tried again and kicked Yang in the chest. “Sorry,” she repeated.

“I don’t think we’re doing this right. Hold on.” Yang reached for her Scroll, dropped it, cursed, and managed to pick it up again. “Oh, I see. I’m not positioned right. Let me try this.” She leaned back and opened her legs. “All right, Blake, scootch in here.”

“All right.” She tried. “Lift your leg. No, your other one…okay, let me get mine under there.” Another kick, this time landing squarely on Yang’s left breast. “Dammit. Sorry.”

“Just lift your leg up. No, the other one.” Yang tried to get closer, barely avoided kicking Blake in the face, consulted the Scroll again, and finally they made contact. “I think I got it!”

Blake nodded. “We got it. And…um…” She tried moving up and down. Nothing really happened. “Are you _sure_ we’re doing it right? I don’t really feel all that turned on.”

Yang put her hands on her hips in exasperation, which wasn’t easy. “You’re wet, though!”

“I was that already.”

Yang looked at her Scroll a third time. They had to be doing something wrong. This was supposed to be the ultimate girl-on-girl sex position. Truth to tell, she didn’t feel all that hot either. She _did,_ because it was a naked Blake in front of her, but she’d probably feel that way if they were standing. Moreso, actually. “I don’t know what went wrong.”

What was not known—outside of Team RWBY—was that deep down, inside the calm, almost repressed exterior of Blake Belladonna, was a baggy-pantsed comedian who wanted to get out. Sometimes it did. And despite the circumstances of being almost literally enmeshed with an equally naked Yang Xiao Long, the comedian suddenly made an appearance. Blake smiled evilly, pushed herself backwards a bit, grabbed Yang’s left leg, and jammed her left leg under Yang’s right. “Figure four leg lock!” she yelled, and pulled on Yang’s leg.

It really wasn’t all that painful—Blake wasn’t pulling that hard—but Yang dropped her Scroll in surprise. “Blake, what the frickety-frack?”

Blake pulled just a bit harder, pulling herself backwards. “Tap, Yang! Tap out!”

Yang smirked. “Like hell!” She suddenly rolled, managed to get her leg free, and continued the roll, ending up on her feet. Blake kipped up, and they faced each other, grinning savagely. “Oh ho,” Yang said. “Want to wrestle, huh?”

“I think this will be easier,” Blake panted, still smiling. “You pin her, you _win_ her.”

Yang made a come-hither gesture. “Bring it.” 

They circled each other, as much as the small dorm room allowed, then Yang stepped forward and they locked up, hands clasped, gritting their teeth, muscles standing out as they tested their strength. Suddenly Blake let go, turned, slammed her rear into Yang’s stomach—knowing that Yang would be momentarily distracted by the naked Bellabooty—and got her left leg behind her lover’s. “Mistrali leg sweep!” Taken by surprise, Yang went down, Blake landing on top of her. Luckily their Auras protected them from actually getting hurt. Blake grabbed Yang’s leg and tried to bring it up, using her own body weight to keep the blonde’s shoulders down.

And at that point the door opened. Blake and Yang froze, Yang’s leg in the air, their eyes huge at the sight of Ruby and Weiss standing in the doorway. Ruby’s and Weiss’ eyes were no less large, and Myrtenaster clattered to the floor from nerveless fingers.

“Um…” Blake began. There really was no way to explain this. Her mind raced to find one. She was about to claim that this was some sort of nude survival training—there was no telling when a Grimm might ambush you in the shower—when Ruby suddenly sprang forward, slid next to them, and began hitting the floor. “One! Two!”

Yang threw her weight against the still stunned Blake and got a shoulder up. Ruby jumped back, holding up two fingers to Blake. The brawler then threw the Faunus to one side, actually bringing Blake’s shoulders down, and Ruby, skidding over to check, began counting again. Blake kicked out, squirmed free, and tried to talk to Ruby. “This isn’t what—“

Yang darted forward, grabbed Blake around the waist, then threw herself backwards, pitching Blake over her head, though she didn’t let go. The Faunus was driven into the floor, shoulders first. “Suplex city, bitch!” Yang yelled triumphantly. Ruby leapt past them, did a quick check, and slapped the floor. “One!”

Blake noticed that she had somehow ended up nearly at Weiss’ feet, enough that she could look up the other girl's dress and tell that Weiss wore striped panties today. The former heiress was still in shock at the sight of two of her best friends, buck naked, wrestling like it was Saturday Night Fights and not some oddly pornographic tableaux. She’d seen her friends naked before, but never like this. 

“Two!” Ruby yelled. 

“Weiss! Help!” Blake struggled out. She managed to get a hand up as Yang held her down. “Tag in! Tag in!”

As if suddenly possessed, as Ruby raised her hand for the three count, Weiss dropped to her knees and brought her hand down on Blake’s as the latter managed to get one shoulder an inch up. Ruby’s hand stopped midway to the floor, she stood, and slapped both hands together over her head. “Tag!”

“Tag?” Yang exclaimed. “What the—“ Blake rolled her to one side, slipped out of Yang’s grasp—naked and sweating, she was hard to keep hold of—and somersaulted to her feet. She had the presence of mind to grab Myrtenaster and slam the door shut, before any of Team JNR walked by and decided to watch, or worse, turn this into a Royal Rumble. 

Yang jumped to her feet. “Now wait a second, Blake—“ She was cut off as Weiss hit her with a flying tackle, sending both to the floor, all the breath leaving Yang’s lungs in a whoosh. 

_“Spear!”_ Blake yelled. _“Spear!”_

“Oh my gods!” Ruby screamed. “Yang’s been cut in half!” Weiss went for the kill, draping herself over Yang’s breasts, grabbing the brawler’s left leg and raising it with her left hand while the right held down Yang’s artificial arm. Ruby dropped to the ground, and counted to three. She jumped up and raised Weiss’ arm in triumph, as the younger Schnee threw up both hands in an OK sign. “Checkmate is the winaaaah!” Ruby announced.

Weiss basked in the victory for a second, then reality set back in again. “Wait…what the _hell_ are we _doing?”_

Yang got her breath back, and smiled up at Weiss, hands tucked behind the wild mess of blond hair. Blake used Myrtenaster in a vain attempt to cover herself, despite the fact that there was not an inch of her anatomy Ruby and Weiss hadn’t already seen in the past 30 seconds. “We were wrestling,” Yang said, as if that explained why two out of four of Team RWBY were completely nude.

“But…you…Blake…” Weiss knew that the two were lovers; it had been rather obvious for over a month. But to be confronted with the literal naked truth was still more than a shock. She looked to Blake for a better explanation, but the Faunus merely shrugged and set down Myrtenaster on the shelf. It wasn’t like the rapier was hiding anything. “What are you doing back so soon?” she asked.

“The supply run got cancelled,” Weiss said. “We wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner, but you were…here…doing…things…”

Ruby nudged Weiss. “Hey. You want to try it?”

Weiss gulped. “Ruby…I don’t know…”

“Ah, c’mon. It sure looked like fun, didn’t it?”

Minutes later, Ruby and Weiss faced each other. They weren’t naked; both were actually in swimsuits—Ruby in a red one piece, Weiss in a ice-blue bikini. Yang and Blake had their underwear back on. “This match is scheduled for one fall!” Yang called out. “In this corner, the challenger…Ruuuuby Rooooose!” Ruby winked and gave a thumbs-up to the nonexistent crowd. “And in this corner, the RWBY Tag Team Champion of the Woooooooorld…Weiss… _Schnee!”_ Weiss did the Cena Pose again.

“And the crowd goes wild for the champion!” Blake exclaimed, then made a _waaaaaaahhh_ sound.

Ruby pointed at Weiss. “Your chilly reign of terror over the RWBY Wrestling Foundation is over!”

“Don’t make me laugh!” Weiss cackled. “I shall always rule!”

“Ding-ding-ding!” They didn’t have a bell, so Blake’s voice would have to do. Ruby and Weiss locked up.

“Jaune McMahon has just announced this is a Bra and Panties match!” Yang yelled. “The wrestlers may win by pinfall, submission, or by yanking her opponent’s top off!”

_“What?”_ Weiss screamed, then hurriedly slapped Ruby’s hands away as they went for the drawstring on her top.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, a little White Rose tease there. Who wins? That's for you to decide.
> 
> Now I want to play some WWE 2K. Incidentally, the title of this chapter is nod to Triple H's entrance theme. Yep, I'm a huge wrestling mark. 
> 
> Yes, that's a RWBY Chibi reference towards the end. I'm not sorry, since that same skit (the pillow fight) has Blake literally inviting Yang into her bed.


	6. I Must Increase My Bust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby checks herself out in the mirror, and is impressed by what she sees. So is Yang. And then Blake and Weiss enter the picture.
> 
> What's going on? Has Team RWBY lost their collective mind? Yeah, probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was reading an old "Ah My Goddess!" manga last month, and thought about this. Originally, it was just going to be Yang acting like Urd to Ruby's Skuld, but then it became so, so much more.
> 
> Again, no Semblances in this chapter, which is making a mockery out of what these stories are supposed to be about, but what the hell.

Ruby Rose walked into the bathroom in Team RWBY’s shared dorm room. It had been another long day heading out to Amity Arena, and now she’d heard they were going to be invited to stately Schnee Manor for some boring soiree the next night. Ruby wasn’t terribly fond of social functions in general, even less so when they would be presided over by, in her opinion, the biggest prick in Remnant.

First, though, she needed to shower. Qrow had the heat turned up in the supply truck to Vacuo Desert levels, and it left her sweaty. Sighing, Ruby undid the ties on her corset, dropped it, then the blouse, and finally the underblouse. Then went the boots, the dress, and the stockings until she stood in her underwear. She regarded herself in the mirror.

_Not bad,_ Ruby thought. She still wore the same waist size she had at Beacon, but she was taller. Her hips had lost the baby fat of childhood and were now the slender, curvy hips of a grown woman. Her legs had put on some nice muscle tone and were longer. She was still more cute than beautiful; guys would not quite fall over for her like they did with Yang. Mischeviously—and because she had to anyway—Ruby reached behind her, undid the clasp on her bra, and let it fall free. No longer was she confronted with the generally flat chest of her Beacon days, but the nicely rounded breasts of a young woman. They were not large by any stretch, and to her chagrin, Ruby still had the smallest bust of Team RWBY. Yang’s were still just shy of huge, Blake’s weren’t far behind, and even Weiss had ballooned somewhere between Beacon and Atlas. She cupped her breasts, both hands easily able to make a half-circle and then some, and inspected the pink nipples that surmounted both. 

Ruby threw herself a seductive look, laughed at herself, then left off her breasts to take off the panties and stand naked in front of the mirror. She rotated a bit. She might not have the magnificence of the Bellabooty, or Yang’s slightly large derriere, or Weiss’ slightly flatter and athletic one, but it too was nicely rounded. Ruby smiled in satisfaction, glad that her cookie habit hadn’t gotten past her metabolism, and paused at the sight of her shaved crotch. She wasn’t sure to let that grow back or not; she had shaved it on impulse and liked the feel of it. She ran a finger across the smooth mound, was tempted briefly to do a little more hands-on inspection, then shook her head. “Nah,” she said aloud. The others were in the next room, after all.

Ruby turned on the shower and was getting ready to step in when the door opened to admit Yang. She didn’t try to cover it up; she and Yang had grown up together after all, and even used to bathe together. Of course, that was a long time ago, but even now, their bodies weren’t exactly mysteries to each other. “Hey, sis.”

Yang pushed the door almost shut to hide her sister’s nudity. “’Sup, Rubes. Just need to gargle a bit.” She took a swig of mouthwash, swirled it around a bit, and spit it in the sink while Ruby got her towels ready. “Headed out tonight to patrol the clubs, and it never hurts…” Yang’s voice trailed off. “Ruby. Turn around for a second.”

“Uh, sure.” Ruby did, holding her hands in front of her most intimate spot. Yang rubbed her chin, then did a slow inspection of her sister. “Hmm,” she said. “That’s interesting. Could you raise your arms over your head?”

“What for?” Ruby asked. Had Yang seen something she hadn’t? A zit or something? Ruby obeyed her sister, holding her arms up as if in surrender. 

“Uh huh.” Yang continued staring at her back, which was beginning to get a little disconcerting. Without warning, Yang grabbed a double handful of Ruby’s breasts. “Big Sister Boob Check!” she laughed.

“Aaagh!” Ruby screamed. “Yang!” She twisted and turned, but Yang kept hold and chortled evilly. “I’m not 14 anymore!”

“You most certainly are not,” Yang answered. She slapped her sister’s butt. “You’ve gotten a chest now, Sis, _and_ a booty. Looking good. Not sold on the whole shaving down there, though. Kinda slutty.” The door opened, and Blake stopped at the threshold. “Oh, sorry!” she said, seeing a naked Ruby. “Just wanted to check my hair…” Her voice trailed off as well. “Yang, just _what_ are you doing?”

“Big Sister Boob Check.” Yang sounded like borderline sexual assault on her sister was an everyday occurrence. She hefted Ruby’s bosom for Blake’s inspection. “She got a visit from the Titty Fairy while we were gone!”

Blake rolled her eyes, not looking at Ruby in deference to the clear embarrassment on the younger girl’s face. She looked in the mirror, ignoring them. Ruby squeaked as Yang’s thumbs accidentally brushed her nipples, which to her discomfiture, hardened under the pressure. Worse, Yang noticed. “Whoa, perky! Blake, look!”

Blake knew that Yang was just messing with her sister, to get her to blush and scream, and to embarrass the Faunus as well. The blonde brawler seemed to enjoy doing that sort of thing; it was harmless. It was if Yang was making up for over a year of depression and angst after Beacon, and truth to be told, Team RWBY was glad to see her sense of fun return. Blake didn’t rise to the bait, but decided she’d mess with the sisters a bit. She ran her fingers through her shortened hair, then turned around. She took a step forward and closely looked at a stunned Ruby’s chest. “They have gotten larger, at that.” Blake reached up and cupped Ruby’s face, squeezing her cheeks, looking at her as if the other girl was a horse she intended to buy, then stepped back and glanced up and down. “Yes, I’d say she’s become quite the beautiful young woman, Yang. You should be proud of her.” She tapped Ruby under the chin, threw her a sultry look, and opened fire. “My bunk, Ruby. 2300 Hours.”

Ruby’s color, which was already a deeper shade of pink, went to Crescent Rose Red. Yang’s mouth dropped open. “What?” She was still holding Ruby’s breasts.

Blake returned Yang’s stare, then shrugged. “Oh, what the hell. You too, Yang. It might be a tough fit, but we’ll figure something out.” She raised her voice. “Weiss!”

Weiss, who was reading a book on Mantle defense works, closed her eyes. She had heard the talking, and knew what Blake was doing. Fine. She could play along too. “Yes, Blake?”

“You want in? I’m having a Team RWBY orgy in my bunk at 2300.”

“Sure,” Weiss said, sounding casual. “It’s been awhile since we had one of those.” She smothered a laugh, as a Yang-like thought came to her. “Want me to bring the Dust-infused strap-on this time?”

“As long as you still have the Gravity Dust insert, absolutely!” Blake replied. She shuddered in fake delight. “Oh, Yang. You should’ve been there. Weiss and I, on the ceiling, making the sweetest love in zero gravity…” Blake turned and left the bathroom. “You know what? The hell with it. You sisters can enjoy your own company. I want Weiss tonight.” If Ruby’s silver eyes were any wider, they might have accidentally activated and vaporized Blake. Yang had turned the same shade of red as her sister—from shock, from embarassment, and from the mental image of a naked Blake floating in zero-G. 

Blake stopped by Weiss’ bunk. Both of them grinned at each other, then couldn’t contain it any longer, and burst into laughter. Yang let go of Ruby, finally, and stomped into the dorm room. Then the laughter got to her, and she started giggling as well.

Ruby fumed a little, then sighed, and snickered a bit. “See you at 2300, guys!” she yelled out, and shut the door. 

Later that night, Blake was just about asleep, turned over in her bunk. She saw a shadow loom over her, then a warm body crawl into her bed. “Yang?” she murmured sleepily. “What’s up?”

“It’s 2300,” Yang whispered. “I’m here for the orgy that was announced?”

“What the…oh.” Blake smiled in the darkness. “Well, I don’t know, Yang. Did you have reservations?”

“I’m a bit early,” Yang admitted with a grin, “but I wanted to get here before the rush started.” She ran her artificial hand under Blake’s yukata, fondled a breast. Blake shivered at the touch of cool metal on hot skin, and this time it wasn’t faked. Still with that maddening grin on her face, Yang moved forward until she was lliac eye to yellow eye with the Faunus. “I hope the maitre’d won’t mind.”

“She’ll let it go this time…for our best customer,” Blake said quietly, then said nothing as Yang kissed her. She felt the tongue probing, teased it for a moment, then let it in, trying not to gasp deliciously as Yang’s hand went deeper under the yukata, pushing it open entirely. 

Then both of them froze in mid kiss.

“Ohh, _Weiss,_ ” Ruby moaned. “Right there. Right there.”

“What’s this?” Weiss whispered playfully, but not too softly that Blake and Yang could not hear them. “Is that Ruby Rose’s G-spot? Right in the Crevice of Comfort as you foretold.”

“Ahhh, Weiss, that’s it…that’s the stuff…ohhh, gooddddss…push your fingers up...yeaaaaah...”

“Your toes are curling, Ruby! Your breasts! Oh, how I missed them so!”

Yang and Blake stared at each other popeyed. They heard movement in the bunk below, then a thump. “Weiss, shhh,” Ruby said softly. “Blake and Yang are asleep. You can’t wake them up, it’ll—“ then her voice rose to almost a shout. “What, Weiss? What is that in me?” The reaper gasped. “Oh wow! The strap-on! Ahh, Weiss, that’s it! Pound me, Weiss! Pound me!” There was more thumping on the mattress above, distinctly rhythmic and getting louder. “Weiss! Weiss!” Ruby cried out. “Make me forget my name! Ahh, I can’t take much more!”

“Ruby, be quiet! You’ll wake the others!”

“I don’t care! Harder, Weiss! Harder!” The thumping was now so loud that Yang and Blake both glanced at the mattress above worriedly, as it might collapse at any moment, and then Team RWBY _would_ be in the same bunk together.

Blake looked at Yang. Yang looked at Blake. _No way,_ Yang mouthed. With a stealthiness borne of two years of training at Beacon and in the field, they slipped out of Blake’s bunk—Blake adjusting her yukata closed—and rose up like submarine periscopes to stare over the edge of Ruby’s bunk. 

Instead of the mind-breaking sight of their naked mutual friend thrusting eagerly into Yang’s equally naked and panting sister, both Ruby and Weiss were fully dressed in their pajamas. Ruby was curled up to give Weiss some room, and Weiss was slapping her hand against the mattress in rhythm. Both of them were grinning at Blake and Yang. “Weiss!” Ruby continued, looking right at Yang, her eyes shining with mirth. “Oh noes, I’m gonna come so hard!”

“Oh, me too, Ruby! My hips, they won’t stop!” Weiss said, barely able to contain herself. “I don’t know why, because this provides absolutely no stimulation, but I’m going to come too! We have to at the same time, or the story doesn’t—“ Then she couldn’t stop, and exploded in guffaws. Ruby was right behind her.

Blake put her forehead against the bunk, then she started shaking with laughter. Yang was the last, more out of shock than anger, but she started laughing, then tried to jump into the bunk. “Let me in there!” she yelled. “Tap me in, Weiss! Tap me in! I’ve always wanted to try incest!” Blake sank to the floor, holding her sides as she dissolved into screams of hilarity.

Next door, Jaune looked up from his comic book, red as a beet. “What the hell are they _doing_ over there?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, geez. I hope you're laughing as hard as I did writing this. This really does sound like something Team RWBY would do.


	7. Hit Me With Your Best Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam Taurus has hunted down Blake and Yang, and it looks bad for both of them--Gambol Shroud is broken, Blake is literally just hanging on, and Yang is short on Aura. 
> 
> But unknown to Adam, Yang has a secret weapon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I removed the "Adam/Blake" relationship tag last night, because I thought, "There's no way I can make that remotely funny."
> 
> I was wrong. Well, maybe. As always, these stories are not remotely to be taken seriously, and while the others could be canon, this one most definitely isn't.

Yang Xiao Long felt her fingers shaking, and not entirely with anger. She was breathing heavily, almost winded, exhausted, pushed to her limit. She knew her Aura was low.

She quickly looked in Blake’s direction. Her friend—maybe more than friend—was in even more trouble. She was hanging by her fingertips from a ledge, over a waterfall. The good news was that Blake was not likely to drown if she fell in. The bad news was that the fall would kill her first. Her Aura was gone, and Gambol Shroud was in pieces.

Before them stood Adam Taurus. He was not in much better shape, his once pristine uniform cut and burned in places, a bruise on his face, betraying that his Aura had taken a few hits. His mask was gone, exposing the ruin of his left eye, SDC permanently branded onto his skin, the source of his rage and hate and pain. 

In his right hand was Wilt, the blade blood red. A jolt of remembered pain shot up Yang’s artificial arm, phantom pain. He puffed as he caught his breath, and stared at her. “Moment of truth, Yang! Do you think you’re faster than you were at Beacon?” Yang’s real fingers shook worse, and in her mind she could hear the sound of meat being cleaved, the sound of that very sword chopping through flesh and bone— _her_ flesh and bone. Adam smiled. “Me neither. Your Aura’s bound to be running low.”

Suddenly, he charged. It was all Yang could do to stay alive for the next five seconds as Wilt seemed to come at her from every direction. She dodged, but always the sword blade crept closer. “Hit me already!” he taunted. She feinted towards Blake, leapt backwards in the other direction; Wilt once more barely missed. “What does she _see_ in you!” Adam screamed.

“You want to know?” Yang shouted back. “Fine!” She reached up, grabbed the top of her shirt, and pulled it straight down. 

Adam stopped cold, Wilt in mid-swing; his remaining good eye widened. Yang’s breasts were large, yet perfectly rounded, the nipples hard with the exertion of the fight. “Holy shit,” he breathed. He stepped back, eye still riveted on her chest. 

“And that isn’t all!” Yang put her hands in the waistband of her pants and pulled them down to her knees, along with the underwear. She turned and slapped her butt. “I’ll grant you that it’s nothing like Blake’s booty, but it’s pretty damn hot!”

“It… _is…_ ” Adam said slowly. “And…and you’re…you’re a natural blonde.” Yang noticed that Wilt’s point had dropped, but something in Adam’s pants certainly hadn’t.

“Duh. Did you think this is a dye job?”

“Well, the eyebrows…” Yang pulled back her bangs, and Adam peered closer. “Huh. I thought they were brown.”

“If you weren’t trying to kill me, you asshole, maybe you would’ve noticed sooner.”

Adam shrugged. “There is that, but you do realize my eyesight isn’t all that great.” He blew out his breath as Yang pulled her pants back up. She decided to leave the top open, because it was definitely distracting her opponent. “This changes things.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He sheathed Wilt. “I mean…I never knew.” He turned towards Blake, who had managed to crawl back off the ledge onto the field. “Blake? Blake, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in love with such a damn hottie! Wow!"

Blake bent over, trying to get her breath back. “Are you _blind?”_

“Now that’s just discriminatory, Blake. I can’t help it if I only have one eye. And it was dark back at Beacon.” Adam rubbed his chin in thought. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do now. I mean, I still want Blake back, but to deprive the world of such a hot tamale like you, Yang…it would be a sin.” He was lost in thought as Blake walked over to Yang. Finally Adam sighed, long and sadly. “Well, that’s it. I lost. Fair and square.” He pointed at Yang’s breasts. “No way I can compete with those, Blake.”

“You mean…you’re not going to try and kill us anymore?” Blake was, needless to say, a bit shocked.

“Nope. I have to concede. Even if I killed her, Blake, you’d always remember those magnificent breasts and those perfectly conical, flamingo pink nipples. And so would I.” 

Yang didn’t quite feel sorry for Adam, who after all had chopped off her arm, but she did feel a pang of sympathy for him. Just a pang. “Well…there’s always Sienna, right? She’s pretty hot.”

Adam shook his head. “She was, but I sort of killed her. Always knew that was going to bite me in the butt somehow.” He spread his hands. “I’ll figure something out.” He dropped his voice and winked at Yang. “Tell me the truth…have you guys…y’know…done it?”

“No,” Blake snapped, “because _someone_ keeps trying to _kill_ us!”

Adam ignored that, and stepped closer to Yang. “Look, least I can do is give some advice. If you can get your fingers on her G-spot, she’ll go bonkers. Seriously, Yang, she will yowl. I’m not even kidding.”

Yang, to Blake’s horror, leaned closer to Adam. “Yeah? Where is it?” He demonstrated with his fingers (air guitar style, not actually demonstrating), and Blake thought about throwing herself off the waterfall. “No shit?” the blonde asked.

“No shit,” Adam answered. “And if you get right where the inner corners of her ears are and scratch her—“

“Shut up, Adam!” Blake yelled. “I swear to the gods I will stab you in the fricking _heart—“_

“—she’ll purr. No shit,” he repeated. 

Yang looked hungrily at the Faunus girl. “Really.”

“Oh, and she just _loves_ oral.”

“ _Really.”_

Blake sank to her knees. “Adam, I’ve changed my mind. Kill me.”

He laughed. “Hey, if I can’t have you, babe, I’m at least going to live vicariously through someone else.” He nudged Yang. “And if you’re ever up for a threesome…”

Yang laughed and put Ember Celica to his throat. “How about I blow off your damn head instead?”

“Okay, okay! Just asking. Can’t get pissed at a guy for trying.” Adam looked at them, sighed again, then winked at Blake, which was a little strange. “Good luck.” He turned and walked away, muttering to himself that maybe that Cinder girl was still single. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adam hooking up with Cinder is a very frightening prospect. No, I'm not going to write that.


	8. The Devil Went Down to Atlas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salem appears to personally take the Relic of Knowledge, and only one stands in her path: Lie Ren. With the lives of Nora and everyone else on the line, what can Ren do, alone?
> 
> He can play a game, that's what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one takes awhile to build up to the funny; at the beginning, this is very damn dark. I tried to emphasize just how unstoppable and terrifying Salem is. I could've easily turned this into a horror story, or a darkfic in which Salem kills everyone. But mass murder isn't sexy, much less funny, so stick with it, and I think you'll like the ending.

“Ren…help me…Ren…”

Lie Ren jerked out of a sound sleep at the plaintive sound of Nora Valkyrie’s voice. He was out of the bed like a shot, hands grabbing for Stormflower, bringing the guns up, fingers tightening on the triggers. 

“Ah-ah-ah, Lie Ren,” a new voice said. “I don’t think you want to do that.”

Ren stopped. His blood ran cold. Standing in front of him, at the foot of the bed he shared with Nora, was the tall, willowy, terrifying form of Salem herself. Just as she had appeared in Emerald’s illusion at Haven, she was dressed in a black cloak and cape, her hair tied back in a severe bun with braids like a satanic halo. Her eyes glowed red like burning coals, her bloodless lips in a savage, horrible smile. One black-veined hand was on a hip. The other, her left hand, was behind Nora’s head, glowing with energy. Nora herself, still in her pajamas, was on her knees, head lolling, eyes half-closed, nearly unconscious.

Ren bared his teeth in rage and took a step forward. Nora suddenly jerked upright, and a choking noise came from her throat. “I said stop,” Salem told him. “I am drawing Nora Valkyrie’s life energy from her…slowly, for now. But for every step you take towards me, for every shot you send at me, I will increase it, until she is nothing more than a withered husk.” Her smile broadened. “Besides, Lie Ren, you know that I cannot be killed.”

Ren cursed to himself, remembering Ruby’s words: Salem was immortal. He could shoot her a thousand times and she would not die. “And don’t call for help,” Salem advised. “Your teammates are asleep…and they won’t wake up anytime soon.”

“What did you do to them?” Ren demanded. 

“Nothing. For now. Just a simple mass sleep spell. As a matter of fact, they will wake up quite refreshed. Whether they wake up at all is up to you.”

“Why me?” Ren asked.

Salem placed her left hand on Nora’s head. Nora slumped forward, and to Ren’s horror he saw that the normal bloom in her cheeks had already faded. “Because you are the most reasonable, Ren. Any of these other fools would attack me, and where would that leave us? I would simply have to kill them, and I’m no closer to what I desire.”

“And that would be?” Ren knew exactly what Salem wanted, but he had to stall for time, to think of some way out of this that wouldn’t end up with all of them dead.

“The Relic of Knowledge, of course,” Salem answered. 

Ren thought it was with Oscar, but he wasn’t sure. It made no sense: Salem surely could sense where the Relic was. Why hadn’t she already taken it? _She doesn’t know,_ he realized. _Perhaps Ozpin’s latent power, through Oscar, is hiding it from her._

“You’re stalling,” Salem snapped. Nora’s breath rattled in her throat for a second, before her breathing evened out again. Ren felt the unfamiliar feeling of panic rising in his throat, something he’d not felt since a child. His own life didn’t matter; he had to save Nora, and somehow keep the Relic from Salem. He relaxed, using his Semblance on himself. _Think,_ he thought. _What is Salem’s weakness? What did Team RWBY learn from the Relic?_

And suddenly Lie Ren had a plan. It was risky, it was a long shot, but he had to try.

“What if we played a game instead?” Ren asked.

The undead queen of the Grimm’s eyes narrowed. She was intrigued despite herself, Ren could tell. He was banking on Salem knowing she could kill them at anytime, but the long boring years of immortality just might be the key. “I did not expect that,” she said. “Gambling with the life of your lover?” She ruffled Nora’s hair. “Very well. What kind of game?”

Ren took a deep breath. “A…sexual game.”

“Nooo…” Nora breathed weakly. “Ren…don’t…”

“I am sorry,” he told her, wishing there was another way, “but I must.”

Salem actually looked stunned. “A _what?”_

“A sexual game, between two consenting adults.”

Salem scoffed. “Impudence!”

“Perhaps a different game, then,” Ren offered.

“Hmmm…” Salem thought for a moment. “State your terms, Huntsman.”

“Quite simple. We will have sex. And the first one who reaches orgasm loses. If you win, I will tell you the location of the Relic; I will even fetch it for you. If I win, you will release Nora and leave.”

Salem rolled her eyes. “That’s quite possibly the most ridiculous notion I have ever heard, and I heard quite a few from Ozma back in the day. I’m not sure what is more foolish: the thought that you could actually beat me, or the thought that I simply won’t murder all of you if I lose anyway. And I won’t lose.”

“You could’ve done that when you walked in here,” Ren pointed out, fighting down the icy ball of fear in his gut. “Yet you didn’t.”

Salem hesitated; Ren could see she was thinking about it. Then she roughly cuffed Nora in the back of her head; the Huntress fell over on her side, too weak to move. Ren played his ace card. “It must be lonely, in your castle. All those years, alone, with no one to love you.”

“I don’t need love,” Salem snarled, and for a moment, Ren thought he’d pushed too far, and they would all die. But for the briefest of moments, in those red eyes, he saw the briefest bit of pain. And loneliness. And desire. 

“Perhaps not love,” Ren amended, “but physical love.” He shrugged. “Or we could play chess.”

Salem hesitated again. Ren watched her carefully. Even the immortal’s façade could crack a little, and hers did. He saw the slight trembling in her fingers, the tiniest sliver of a tongue moistening dry lips. Then those red eyes met his. “Very well, I agree to this…game, ” she assented. Then the smile returned, just as evil as before. “Who knows? If you please me even a small amount, Lie Ren, perhaps I will keep you as a slave.”

“May I see to her?” He nodded at Nora. Salem gave a grunt of assent. He moved past her—the temperature noticeably dropped as he got close—and grabbed Nora. She was unresponsive, her eyes closed, but he felt her pulse. It was steady. Whatever Salem had done to her, it wasn’t permanent, and Nora’s own Aura should start healing her. He leaned forward and whispered into her ear. “I’m sorry, Nora. I must do this.” Then he carefully moved her to a corner of the room, took a pillow, and made her as comfortable as possible, facing away from the bed. He didn’t want Nora to see any of this.

“Are you ready, Huntsman?” Ren turned, and his breath caught in his throat. 

Salem was nude, her cloak a black shadow at her feet, and as he watched, she stepped forward. She was both frightening and eminently desirable at the same time. Her figure was enough to make an army stop in its tracks, perfection that only the gods could have granted her—but her skin was also bone white, lined with black veins that crept up over her arms, legs, cheeks, and across her slender middle. Her breasts were large, but seemed to need no support at all, with dark nipples; there was no hair between her legs, and as Ren watched, she stood, legs apart, letting him see her folds, themselves merely a darker shade of gray. That sardonic smile was on her face, like a cat looking at a mouse it planned on devouring—but not before it had plenty of fun batting it around. “Gaze upon me, Lie Ren, and despair. I am the face that launched a thousand warriors. I am the body that tempted millions. I am raw power, and for ten thousand years I have lived, and fought, and killed—“

“And only loved once,” Ren interrupted her.

Salem stopped. “You are a fool.” She waved him forward. “Come here, Lie Ren. For the briefest of moments, for you will not last long, I shall show you paradise.” He nodded and began to walk towards her, but then she waved a hand. “Oh, and lose those.” Ren felt the temperature drop again, but this time it was because he was naked as well. His clothes were simply no longer there.

Salem’s eyebrows rose. “I see why the hammer thrower loves you so. Mmm. Delectable.” As he got close enough, she ran a cold hand down his chest, feeling the muscles. “Slender but strong.” She took a shoulder and spun him around. “Very nice.” Ren tensed as she ran her hands over his buttocks. “Oh, yes, you _do_ make the girls fall over, don’t you?” She turned him back towards her, and finally looked down. Ren wasn’t quite hard yet, and having cold fingertips on his member didn’t help much. “And this is not bad in the least. More than I expected.” Her fingers might be cold, but they were also very experienced, and Ren was soon very hard. Salem sighed. “I do hope you can last, Huntsman. I would hate to win in thirty seconds.”

Ren, however, knew he had the measure of his enemy. He got closer. She was taller than him, slightly, but that did not matter. Salem still smiled, amused, but the smile faltered a little when Ren reached up and carefully, methodically, untied the bun in her hair. Her hair, still braided, fell over her shoulders and down to the small of her back. “You are quite beautiful,” Ren said quietly, intimately. “I can see why Ozma was willing to kill so many to reach you.”

Salem’s eyes flared, and Ren saw his own blackened corpse in them. “Do not mention that name—“ But then Ren played his next card, and took his biggest chance of all. His fingers still entwined in her hair, Ren drew her down to him and kissed her. He did not try to force his tongue between her lips, or move his hands from anywhere but her hair. It was a gentle, loving kiss, his lips moistened against her dry, cool ones. It was the kiss that Ren normally gave Nora. 

He withdrew from her, and kept his emotions carefully controlled, because the look on Salem’s face was one of utter shock. “I haven’t…been…” she stammered.

“You haven’t been kissed like that in a long time,” he said.

“N-no.”

“Then allow me to do it again.” Ren drew those lips back to his, and Salem’s eyes fluttered shut. Her fingers, which had been at her side after teasing him, came up to his back. Ren’s tongue flitted against her lips, just for a moment, and Salem let out an involuntary moan. Ren pulled back, unable to resist a smile.

Salem’s eyes were burning again, but this time, he noticed, it wasn’t so much rage as lust. “You did _not_ just make me moan.”

“I believe I did.”

“Impudent fool. You know nothing, Lie Ren.” She shoved him onto the bed. “I, however, I have forgotten nothing about men. They are easily led…often by this.” She flicked his erection. “I have had legions of lovers, before and after Ozma, Lie Ren. You have only had…her. Pathetic.” Salem flicked a derisive finger towards Nora. “But perhaps…perhaps I will draw this out. Have you begging to come. Perhaps even draw out your life energy and kill you as you do so.”

Ren tucked his hands behind his head. “Do you plan to begin, or would you like more time to monologue?”

Salem’s eyes widened, her teeth gritted, and Ren faltered a little, once more wondering if he’d pushed too far. But then that terrible grin returned. She straddled him, grabbed hold of his shaft, and guided it into her. To his surprise, she was by no means cold inside, but pleasantly warm, and well lubricated. “I shall enjoy watching you scream, Lie Ren. Then…only then…will you be allowed to die.”

Ren only smiled.

Nora slowly climbed out of a terrible sleep, almost a coma. Her sleep had been filled with nightmares, of being lifted out of bed by Grimm-like arms, thrown at the feet of Salem herself, and then the nauseating terror of Salem reaching out and seemingly tearing out her soul, one bit at a time. Her Semblance was useless, her hammer an eternity away, unable to do anything but weakly beg Ren not to…

“Man, that sucked,” she groaned, and then her eyes flew open. There were screams in the room. Not screams of terror, or screams of Ren being murdered. Screams of utter passion. Screams Nora recognized as ones she herself let out on many occasions. Nora rolled over, and her mouth fell open in sheer surprise.

Ren was screwing Salem. 

Salem’s back was arched, her shapely rear end under Ren’s hands, her perfect (if grayish) legs tucked behind his back, her own hands gripping her rock-hard nipples, her braids a tangled mess, and her eyes red slits as she screamed unintelligible words at Ren. Ren, for his part, was thrusting slowly into her, a small smile on his face, but otherwise wearing the same expression he would wear when watching television with Nora: faint amusement.

Salem’s arms flung outwards and she grabbed the sides of the bed. She stiffened, froze, and her breath came in ragged gasps. Nora blinked, rubbed her eyes, blinked again, and got to her knees. Ren withdrew from Salem, still hard. “That was, what, the ninth time?” he asked the undead queen.

Salem could barely lift her head. “You…bastard…” She conjured a bottle of water, chugged it dry, licked her lips, and nodded. “Again!”

Ren’s smile broadened. “But you lost, Salem. You lost about an hour ago.”

“I don’t care!” She got to her own knees, winced as her back popped audibly, and took Ren into her mouth. “Illmwf mkathe uth comthe!” Nora translated that as “I’ll make you come!” Ren shrugged and let Salem do her worst.

Nora was popeyed at her lover having sex with their archenemy, but then she slowly smiled too, as she recognized what he was doing. Nora got to her feet, which were a little unsteady, and said loudly, “Hey!”

Salem stopped in mid-suck, those red eyes turning dangerously in her direction. “Whmth thmf fukmth dm youm wantmth?”

“I can get him off, Salem.”

The witch pulled Ren out of her mouth with a pop. “Bullshit. I’ve been trying to get him off for an hour.” She thumbed at him. “He’s not fucking human. He’s made me come nine times. Not even _Ozma_ made me come nine times.” 

Nora wanted to skip over to the bed, but didn’t know if she was capable of it, and besides, there was no reason to rub Salem’s nose in it. She knew that that Salem could still kill all of them…though as exhausted as the immortal witch looked, she might not be able to kill a fly at this point. “May I?” Nora said.

Salem slumped back on the bed. “Sure,” she said tiredly. “Might as well. I’m not getting anywhere with him.”

“First, a little incentive…” Nora flung off her pajama top, and wore nothing beneath it. Her bosom was not as large as Salem’s, but it was impressive in its own way. Ren nodded in appreciation. “And now, the magic touch.” Nora grabbed Ren’s member; there was no way in the multiverse she was sticking that in her mouth or some other orifice after it had been inside the undead queen of the Grimm. She gave one stroke of the erection.

And Ren dropped his Semblance. His eyes instantly widened, he gasped “Nora!” and shot thick white stripes of semen all over Salem’s stomach and breasts. Salem jumped in surprise, the expression on her face the same as if Tyrian had spilled wine down the front of her dress. 

Nora spread her hands. “Ta-da.”

“What…how…” Salem stuttered.

“All you need is love.” Nora hugged Ren and kissed his cheek. 

“Love? What the fu—“ Salem stood on the bed and pointed down at them, which might have been more intimidating if she was not naked and not covered in Ren’s semen. “You…you son of a _bitch!_ ” she shouted. “Love, my undead ass! You were using a Semblance!” She jumped off the bed, finger still leveled. “You distracted me with that damned kissing so I wouldn’t notice it was active!”

Ren nodded. “Kind of,” he told her. “Actually, I activated it after we first, ah, joined. You were too busy after that.”

Nora couldn’t help but grin at Salem. “Renny can last all night long. He drives me nuts. Why do you think I love him so much? It’s not just his pancakes, baby!”

Salem’s fingers curled into fists. Her eyes blazed like an enraged Grimm. Purple halos glowed around her hands. “You. You tricked me. You…I’m going to…” Thunder shook Atlas and Grimm for hundreds of miles howled as their mistress’ rage exploded. Even in their magically induced slumber, Jaune and Team RWBY stirred, their faces screwed up in terror as Salem’s power shot through Atlas Academy.

Then Salem relaxed. The magic dissipated, and she sighed “…I’m going to let it go. You win, Lie Ren. For now. I will return to my castle and contemplate this night, long and hard.” Salem shrugged. “What the hell. I haven’t felt this satisfied in two millennia.” A brief bit of sadness crossed the witch’s face. “I envy you, Nora Valkyrie.”

Salem fluttered her fingers, magically cleaning herself, then robe and cape settled around her shoulders. She bowed and was gone in a puff of purple smoke. 

Ren sagged back onto the bed. “That almost didn’t work,” he puffed, wishing he had Salem’s ability to summon water. “She almost had me a couple of times.”

“But then you thought of me,” Nora said, her arms around him. 

“Actually, no. I thought of Professor Port in a jockstrap.” At her disgusted expression, Ren explained, “I need to be _less_ stimulated, not more.”

“Oh, I get it.” 

“Forgive me?” he asked. “I’m sorry, Nora. I never wanted to have any other but you.”

“I forgive you.” Nora snuggled him. “You saved us, Ren!”

“Barely.”

“Meh!” Nora jumped to her feet, and quickly took off her pajama bottoms and panties. “Well, I’m not going to sit here with this place smelling like old sex. I wanna scream too!”

Ren fell backwards. “Nora, I can’t. I can’t. I barely survived Salem!” He hadn’t revealed his other secret to the queen of Grimm: that sex with Nora Valkyrie either broke a man or made him remarkably resilient. “Even for you, my love—I can’t get it up!”

“Oh, I can fix that.” Ren’s head came up in alarm as the room lit up in electric blue and lightning curled around Nora’s fists. Her grin was even more predatory than Salem’s, and Ren knew that he was about to die. Granted, he would die smiling, but he would die. “All you need is a little love!” Nora declared. The electricity popped and sparked. “And a jumpstart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait a second. Where *is* the Relic of Knowledge? I was going to write where the reason Salem couldn't see it is because Oscar's in bed with Ruby, and the combined powers of Ozpin's magic and silver eyes block Salem's ability to scry and...ran out of room. So just make like Steve Winwood and roll with it. 
> 
> Took me awhile to think of how Ren's Semblance would be useful in the bedroom, but then I asked myself why Nora always smiles around him.


	9. Love Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang comes upon some fanfiction, depicting her and Blake slowly being controlled by an evil entity and forced into making love to each other.
> 
> It's not very good fanfiction, but the question is...who wrote it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Love Hurts" is becoming "The Lusty Adventures of Blake and Yang," but I can't help it. I love writing these two. 
> 
> And I'm not making fun of anyone in particular in this chapter. Those who have read my smutty stuff will probably recognize my own writing style in the fanfic Yang reads. It's a little bit of gentle ribbing at us, the FNDM.

Yang Xiao Long returned to the dorms after a long day escorting equipment to Amity Arena. “Honey, I’m home!” she called out. It wasn’t particularly for Blake; Yang just said things like that to get a laugh out of people, and if Blake didn’t laugh, Ruby was good for a guffaw or two. Weiss usually just gave her a dirty look, but Yang knew Miss Schnee was nowhere near the humorless ice queen she liked people to think she was.

There was no answer, and Yang poked around a bit to see if anyone was home. No one was. “Guess I got the place to myself for a bit.” Yang changed out of her battle uniform to sweats and T-shirt, turned up the heat a bit, and sat at the computer. She could play a game on her Scroll, but the dorm computer had Super Awesome Ninja Killfest 9000 on it, and the graphics were _way_ better on the PC, no matter what Jaune claimed.

The computer was in sleep mode, so Yang tapped a key, and the monitor came on. It was filled with lines of text, and Yang was about to close out the window to start her game when her eyes caught a single line at random:

_“Please, Yang, don’t!” “I can’t help myself, Blake!”_

“What the hell?” Yang asked, read a few more lines, and covered her mouth in shock. _Holy crap. This is a…this is a lemon! Someone wrote a lemon about me and Blake?_ Quickly, she scrolled up to the first line and started reading. There was some boring characterization talking about blonde brawlers and Faunus girls, but Yang skipped that, even though it was a fairly accurate description of herself and Blake. Yang began reading when she got to the good part.

_As they had a day off, Yang and Blake went to Amity Arena to work out and burn off some sexual tension that neither would admit they had. Although they knew their romance was forbidden, Yang had caught herself gazing at the magnificent rear of Blake, and Blake had stolen glances at Yang’s impressive bosom._

“That’s true,” Yang mused, grasping her breasts with a laugh. “The girls _are_ pretty impressive, and the Bellabooty is indeed magnificent. But Blake and I really are okay with admitting when we have sexual tension. Well…we do now, anyway.”

_They had no intention of the sparring match becoming anything more than that. It was certainly not an excuse to get each other sweaty and hot, which might lead to peeling off clothes and making sweet love right there on the Amity Arena floor. Besides, there were bad memories of Amity._

Yang had been scrawling down _make love to Blake on Amity Arena floor_ on a notepad, but scratched that out when she read the last sentence. “Oh, sure, kill the mood.”

_As Yang swung a hard roundhouse right to catch Blake on the chin, her robotic hand suddenly came out of its fist. Instead of hitting Blake, it reached out and grabbed the front of her tunic. “Yang, what—“ Blake began, but the hand swung downwards, tearing out the zipper and the front of the tunic. Blake’s perky Faunus breasts bounced free of the tunic, encased in a black lacy bra._

Yang nodded; that part seemed right. Blake’s breasts were indeed rather perky, and she was partial to black lace. 

_Yang’s robotic hand seized a handful of Blake’s right breast. “Yang, what are you doing?” Blake protested._

_“I don’t know!” Yang exclaimed. “I can’t control my hand!” As both girls watched in horror, the hand reached up of its own volition and tore the front clasp off Blake’s bra. Her breasts now were free, the pinkish nipples instantly hardening in the cool air. The hand once more grasped the right breast and squeezed—not painfully, but enough to get a reaction out of the Faunus girl._

_“Kyaaa!” Blake exclaimed._

“’Kyaaa’?” Yang asked. “I’ve never heard Blake go ‘Kyaaa.’”

_But the hand was not done. It dove down under the open tunic, underneath Blake’s belt, under the elastic waistband of her lacy black panties, to her most secret place._

“Most secret place?” Yang shook her head. “Which part? Clitoris, labia--"

_Blake could feel the cold metal fingers probing at her vagina. “Please, Yang, don’t!”_

_“I can’t help myself, Blake!” The fingers dived deep into Blake, eliciting a gasp from the Faunus’ mouth._

“Wait, which fingers? They won’t all fit in there! Blake’s kinda tight; she’s not a canyon or anything…” Yang leaned closer and read more intently.

_“Ah, Yang! It’s so wrong, but it feels so good!” The Faunus girl’s eyes widened, her pupils dilating. “It’s vibrating! Oh my gods, the fingers are vibrating inside of me!”_

“Dammit!” Yang cursed, banging aforementioned robotic arm on the desk. “My fingers do _not_ have a vibration function! Who started that damn rumor?” She leaned back in the chair and examined the artificial hand. “I mean, I wish they did…”

_Yang’s eyes flared red, but not with anger. They flared with pure lust. She grabbed Blake with her free hand and pulled her into a Vacuo kiss, their tongues intertwining._

“What the hell is a Vacuo kiss?”

_“Yang,” Blake murmured, almost going insane with the vibrations spreading deep within her, “what is happening…why are you doing this?”_

_“I can’t stop myself any longer!” Yang screamed through the kiss. “I want you, Blake! I want every inch of you!”_

_“I want you as well!” Blake said, between drooling kisses._

Yang scrunched up her face. “Ew. Drooling kisses? That’s kind of gross.”

_“But why?” The Faunus girl wanted to know. “Why are you doing this?”_

_“That would be me!” The laugh resounded through Amity Arena. “I now control Yang’s hand, and by extension, Yang herself!” Yang and Blake tore their attention away from each other to see Arthur Watts in the stands, with a remote control. “Bwahahahahaha!”_

“ _Watts?_ What the frickety frack?” Yang said. The thought of that maniac controlling her made the blonde brawler’s blood run cold. She glanced at her arm, wondering if it could happen.

_“Now, Yang Xiao Long, you shall be consumed with lust!” Watts turned up the control to eleven. Yang’s eyes became even wider and she gasped. Her fingers came out of Blake’s most secret part_

“Vagina!” Yang yelled at the computer. “Slit! Hole! Pussy! Axe wound! It’s not a secret!”

_and joined its flesh and blood counterpart in tearing Yang’s own clothes off. Her jacket went to parts unknown, her shirt and bra torn to shreds, her boots kicked away as Yang yanked down her pants and underwear, exposing the blond secret._

“Oh my gods, another secret,” Yang groaned. “Who writes this shit?”

_Blake watched in a mixture of lust and terror as Yang fell to her knees and began pleasuring herself relentlessly, unable to stop, her tongue hanging out as Watts’ cackles echoed throughout Amity Arena. “Help me, Blake!” she moaned. “Help me! I can’t stop! My body is so hot!” As her buzzing fingers delved into her vulva, the other hand pulled at an already steel-hard nipple. She thrust at her own fingers. “My hips! They move on their own! Help me, Blake!”_

“Yeah, help her, Blake!” Yang exclaimed. “Go kick Watts’ ass!”

_Blake looked at Watts, then back at the naked, panting Yang. She swallowed nervously as she could see the metal yellow fingers vibrating, wetness exploding from Yang and puddling on the floor. Blake could no longer resist. She shrugged out of the remains of her jacket and dived between Yang’s legs, lapping up the drops of excited moisture that oozed out._

Yang rolled her eyes. “I don’t get _that_ wet. Well, except for that one time."

_Blake’s eyes rolled back in her head from pure, unbridled desire._

“Shouldn’t _my_ eyes be rolling back in my head? I’m the one getting off here.”

_She somehow pulled off boots, pants and soaked panties. Blake wrested control of Yang’s robot fingers and jammed them into her own vagina._

Yang stopped for a moment, trying to figure out how that would work, and who exactly was where. If Blake was between her legs, for her arm to be able to reach, it would have to be nearly seven feet in length. Unless Blake was kneeling, and really close, but even then. She gave up and kept reading.

_As Blake groaned and drooled_

“What’s with the drool?”

_she rode on the fingers, feeling their buzzing right on her G-spot. She thrust her face into Yang’s sweet-smelling wetness, and tasted the honey that flowed out._

“Now that’s just taking the Bumblebee thing too far,” Yang said, head resting on her artificial hand. 

_Blake found the blond brawler’s hugely erect clitoris_

“My _what?_ I mean, yeah, I’ve got one of those, but it’s not huge!”

_and sucked on it. Yang screamed with the sensation. “Ah, Blake! Blake!” she shouted. “I’m going to come! Going to come! Lick me harder, Blake!”_

Yang shrugged. “Okay, that part is pretty accurate.” 

_“Ah! Me too! Let’s come together, Yang!” And they did. The girls’ screams blended together to echo throughout Amity Arena, overriding Watts’ evil laugh. Yang’s love juices_

“That’s a new one.”

_covered Blake’s face, and Blake howled as her inner muscles pressed down on the fingers, which showed no mercy. Finally she popped them out of herself and fell down next to Yang, both of them gasping for breath. Watts nodded in satisfaction: he now controlled the blonde brawler and the Faunus, and they would do his bidding._

Yang laughed. “Oh, right. I’m just going to follow one of Salem’s minions just because he got me off? Bastard didn’t even buy me dinner first.”

_“Yang? Blake? What is wrong?” Both girls looked up in fear as Weiss Schnee walked into the arena, Myrtenaster drawn. “I heard screaming!”_

_Watts turned up the controller again. Yang’s arm reached towards Weiss, and both Yang and Blake rose to their feet like zombies, their eyes glazed with lust, juices still running down their legs. They began advancing on the beautiful Schnee heiress, drool hanging from their lips._

_“Yes!” Watts shouted in triumph. “Take her, my slaves of lust! Consume her as you did each other!”_

The door opened and Blake walked in. “Hey, Yang.”

Ruby, Weiss or Blake herself would’ve instantly minimized the window, brought up Atlas Grubhub, and pretended like they were ordering dinner. Yang, however, didn’t care. She knew the rest of Team RWBY thought she was a bit of a pervert, and the story was so laughable that it wasn’t so much erotic as it was hilarious. Though, Yang admitted to herself, in parts it was pretty hot. She turned in the seat and faced Blake, a smirk on her lips. “C’mere.”

Blake hung up her jacket. “What is it?”

“I…don’t think I can describe it.”

Blake shrugged and went over to Yang, leaning over to read. Yang watched her lover’s face. Blake’s eyebrows beetled together in confusion, then she began turning red. Then her hands covered her mouth in shock. “What the hell is this?” she said between her fingers.

That took Yang by surprise. “You didn’t write this?”

“No!” Blake shook her head. 

“But I thought you liked smut!”

“I do! I mean, no! I don’t read smut, Yang, I read romance!”

Yang rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right, ‘Faunus girl.’ I’ve sneaked a peek or two at _Ninjas of Love._ There’s a lot of hard, throbbing manhoods being sunk into secret—hey, wait a minute. Whoever wrote this trash has read _Ninjas of Love!”_

Blake scrolled down. “The wording is similar, but it’s far more graphic. What’s with all the drool? And juices?” She peered closer. “You do _not_ taste like honey.” Then Blake’s blush deepened, as she realized what she had just said. 

“You didn’t write this, then?”

“No! I can write better than this, Yang.”

That was true. Yang had read some of Blake’s fanfiction—which was mainly the _Ninjas of Love_ male characters paired with each other. Yang wasn’t into that sort of male-male thing, but Blake did make it flowery, and it tended to get Blake all turned on, which was a plus. “Well, who did, then? It’s our computer. It’s not me—“

“Definitely not you,” Blake interrupted. “There’s not nearly enough explosions and people being gunned down in gruesome detail.”

Yang was about to tell Blake to shove it, but reconsidered. That was also true; her attempts at fanfiction were mostly superhero genre, and there was zero romance in favor of blowing crap up. Yang went pale. “Gods above,” she breathed. “Ruby. My little sister writes filth.”

“It’s not that bad,” Blake said, “though I’m pretty sure Weiss would encase us in ice before she’d let us have our wicked way with her, and I’m really not on board with all this drool. But this isn’t Ruby, Yang.”

“How do you know?” Yang was nearly beside herself. Her sweet, innocent sister was a smut merchant.

“Because Ruby isn’t in it. You’ve read some of her stuff. She’s a total Mary Sue.” Blake pointed at the screen. “If Ruby had written this, she would’ve already shown up, proven to be completely immune to Watts and our combined lust, and killed him with Crescent Rose.”

Yang nodded. “Yeah…but if it’s not me, or you, or Rubes, that narrows it down, doesn’t it?”

Blake returned Yang’s nod. “Oh, it’s definitely Weiss. Read this paragraph.”

Yang did. It was a very descriptive paragraph on Weiss’ naked body, having been stripped by a ravenous Yang and Blake. It described in detail Weiss’ beautiful white hair, her gorgeous blue eyes, her unblemished skin, her perfectly shaped and proportioned breasts topped with salmon pink nipples, her narrow waist and cute navel, her beautiful legs, and dainty feet. There was also mention of a secret place topped by a shaved mons pubis, and consistent reference to Yang and Blake drooling over her as Weiss protested that she was still a virgin and didn’t like girls. “Well, Weiss isn’t shaved—“ Yang began.

“How do you know?” Blake didn’t mean for her tone to sound accusatory, but it did.

“I saw her in the shower the other day when I went to comb my hair. Duh. Dust, Blake, we used to shower together at Beacon. Well, not together-together, but I saw you naked, you saw me naked, we saw Ruby and Nora and Pyrrha naked…hell, I think we saw Cinder naked once.”

“Oh…right. Sorry.”

Yang reread the paragraph. “Definitely Weiss, though. Read down here. Weiss fights us off—not before we fondle her a bit, though—and then she grabs Myrtenaster and throws it _through_ Watts’ chest, after which he dies a grisly death by landing on his head on Amity’s floor. Huh. That’s actually pretty badass.”

“Wow,” Blake said incredulously, “I never thought Weiss was capable of writing smut. Ruby, possibly; you, definitely; me…all right, fine, yes, I get a little…descriptive. But not Weiss.”

As if bidden, the door to the dorm opened again, admitting none other than the former heiress to the Schnee fortune. “Dust,” she sighed. “Another patrol like that and Salem won’t have to come for us; we’ll die of boredom.”

Blake and Yang turned to her at the same time. “Oh, Weissy,” Yang sang out. “You’ll never guess what we found.”

Weiss closed the door and set Myrtenaster on the weapons rack. “It beggars the imagination, Yang.”

Blake and Yang next looked at each other. Evil grins spread on their faces. Slowly, Yang got to her feet. She held her artificial arm out in front of her, the fingers twitching. “Oh noes,” Yang said in mock terror, “I can’t control my arm! It hungers…for secret places!”

Blake lolled her head, her tongue hanging out. “I don’t know why, but I can’t control myself,” she moaned. “I drool for you, Weiss! I want to run my Faunus tongue over your perfectly proportioned breasts!”

“We are overcome by lust!” Yang said, staggering forward like a zombie.

“We are the love slaves of Arthur Watts! We must consume Weiss Schnee like we consumed each other!” groaned Blake. 

Weiss’ mouth dropped open. The blush went up from her neck like the heat gauge on an overheated Atlesian airship. She fell back against the wall. “Oh…my…gods. You found it. You _read_ it.”

Yang lurched forward. “Help me, Blake! Help me before I ravage Weiss!”

“No!” Blake protested, grabbing the zipper of her tunic. “I must free my perky Faunus breasts! My legs! They move on their own!”

“Kyaa!” Weiss screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have just read a fanfiction in which a fictional character reads fanfiction about herself and three other fictional characters. That's meta, baby.
> 
> Something tells me that Blake likes yaoi. I don't know why; it just seems in character for her. And RWBY Chibi has long since confirmed that Ruby writes Mary Sue stories starring herself. Yang probably would think Michael Bay was the best director ever, and something tells me as well that Weiss has a deeply hidden perverted side. Why would Weiss write a steamy lemon about her teammates? Probably for the kudos. (I was going to work in a AO3 joke in here somewhere, but couldn't figure out a way to make it work.)


	10. Funky Cold Medina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaune is down in the dumps, wanting to get closer to Pyrrha, but doesn't know how. Luckily, Qrow Branwen is there for him.
> 
> Unluckily, Qrow isn't the best person to be getting romantic advice from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Hurts has had a distinct lack of Pyrrha in it. Time to change that. Follow me back to a kinder, gentler RWBY, before Season 3. (Or Season 7. Hold me, I'm scared.)

In happier times, before the Fall of Beacon, it was a rather beautiful early fall day at Beacon Academy. Qrow Branwen took in the air and made his way around campus. As usual, he had drank too much the night before, and was fighting a hangover. The clear, crisp air was helping to clear his senses. Later that afternoon, he was going to meet up with Ruby and Yang and go see the latest Spruce Willis movie, and sneak in plenty of candy. 

Then he came upon Jaune Arc. The young knight was sitting on a bench in Beacon’s central square, looking depressed. Qrow walked up to him, hunched over as usual. “Hey there, Jaune.”

Jaune started in surprise, then smiled wanly at the Huntsman. “Oh. Uh, hello, Professor Branwen.”

“Knock off the professor shit.” Technically Qrow was an instructor at Signal Academy, but he hated being called professor. Professors were boring. “Mind if I sit down?”

“Uh, sure. Of course.”

Qrow leaned back against the bench. “So what’s wrong with you?” he asked.

“It’s nothing, sir.”

“Bullshit. Out with it, kid. Something going on with your team?” Qrow knew all about problems within teams. 

“No.” Jaune hesitated. “Well, yes. Kind of.” Qrow took a drink of hair of the dog and waited, and finally Jaune admitted the truth. “It’s Pyrrha.”

“The Mistrali chick? What’s wrong?” Actually, he knew exactly what was wrong. That Pyrrha Nikos had deep feelings for Jaune Arc was one of the worst kept secrets at Beacon, along with Blake really being a Faunus and Coco Adel having same-team tendencies. Ruby had written her uncle about it.

“You wouldn’t understand, Mr. Branwen. No offense.”

“Listen, kid. I’ve had sex with all breeds of women and several of livestock. You can tell me.”

Jaune wasn’t sure if he wanted to know, but decided that maybe Qrow _would_ understand. “Sir, I like her a lot, but I don’t know how to tell her. She’s a really nice person, and she’s done so much for me. I think she likes me, but…she’s so far above me. She’s the Invincible Girl of Mistral! She’s on the side of cereal boxes!” Jaune sighed heavily. “She’s way out of my league. I can’t even talk to her about this.”

Qrow was touched. He knew what Jaune was going through. Taiyang Xiao Long had been the same way with Raven, Qrow’s twin, mercurial sister. Qrow had felt the same way about Summer Rose, though he’d never acted on those impulses with Short Stack; he never begrudged his brother-in-law the relationship with Summer, but sometimes he caught himself thinking of what-ifs. In any case, in front of him was a good man who loved a good woman, even if neither were quite sure of their feelings, and guys try to stick together when one has a chance to get lucky. Qrow decided he would help matters along. 

“Now listen, kid,” Qrow said, “I think I can help ya.” He leaned forward and told Jaune in a low voice what he had in mind.

“I can’t do that!” Jaune exclaimed. “You want me to _drug_ her?”

“What? No!” Qrow corrected. “And keep your voice down. Nothing like that. This just makes things…a bit easier. She loses her shyness, maybe a few inhibitions. It won't mess with her judgement in any way.” He put a hand on Jaune’s shoulder. “You see, Jaune my man, _she already likes you!_ She just has trouble showing it. And to be honest, both of you suck at the whole talking stuff.” 

“Yeah, I suppose,” Jaune admitted sadly.

“Well, this is better than any alcohol or aphrodisiac. Just a few sips of this and she’ll be on your lap.” Qrow wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Now after you’re there, it’s up to you, and of course you’ve got to set up the, well, atmosphere.” 

“It’s not going to hurt her? Or affect her mind?”

“Nah.” _Not permanently, anyway,_ Qrow added to himself. He’d never used the stuff himself—never needed to—but he knew others who had. With Qrow’s admittedly flexible ethics and permanently alcohol-impaired judgement, he didn’t see this as being immoral at all; he just figured Jaune and Pyrrha would be a lot happier if they just finally got laid. 

Jaune made his decision. “Okay, Mr. Branwen. Where can I find this stuff?”

“There’s a little shop in Vale…”

That evening, Jaune felt better about what he was doing: the fates themselves seemed to have ordained it. Nora and Ren had decided to go into town, and she had texted him that they had run into Team RWBY and were going arcade hopping—with the exception of Weiss, who was being her usual stick-in-the-mud self and was going to stay home and study. It could be dawn before they got back. That left him alone with Pyrrha, and he offered to make her dinner. She had happily accepted. While Jaune was nowhere near the gourmet Ren was, he could more than hold his own. 

Jaune kept it simple, making a quick but filling Vacouan stew of rice and pickled vegetables, with some grilled chicken. Then, after a quick glance around to make sure Pyrrha was still showering, he withdrew a small flask from his pocket and shook it up a bit. Qrow had helped him run into Vale to grab it from a shop that seemed a bit on the shady side, but the shopkeeper from the Dust shop ran it, so Jaune figured it was on the up-and-up. The shopkeeper had mixed up the ingredients Qrow had specified, and given Jaune precise instructions on how to use it. Jaune hoped the old man had gotten it right; it would be embarrassing to poison Pyrrha. With another look around, he carefully put two drops into Pyrrha’s stew. He checked it to make sure it didn’t do anything to the food, but it blended perfectly. Feeling a bit guilty but hoping for the best, Jaune put it out on Team JNPR’s little table—a bowl for Pyrrha, and an undoctored bowl for himself.

“Hello, Jaune,” Pyrrha said in her typical half-sang greeting. She was dressed casually in slacks and a shirt, her hair done up in its usual circlet. She dabbed at her still-damp hair with a towel. “What are we having tonight?” She looked and clapped her hands. “Oh my! It looks great, Jaune!” She tossed her towel in a perfect three-point shot into the laundry hamper, then sat down. She took two huge bites of the stew. “It tastes great, as well!”

“Thank you, Pyrrha. I’m glad you like it.” He took a few bites himself. Pyrrha ate some more, and stopped, her eyebrows beetling together. Jaune gulped, wondering if he was caught. “Something wrong?” he asked.

“No, but…I’ve had this dish before, and it tastes different, somehow.”

Jaune laughed, too high, not that Pyrrha noticed. “Oh, yeah. Well, I added a bit to it.” Technically it wasn’t a lie. 

Pyrrha ate some more and nodded. Her cheeks had reddened. “It grows on you. You gave it some bite.”

Jaune laughed again, and they made small talk while they ate. Jaune was watching Pyrrha carefully, but other than her cheeks being slightly flushed, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She finished the bowl and went back for seconds. She was setting the bowl down when she snapped her fingers. “Oh, darn,” she said. “I didn’t hang up my washrag. Be right back.” She walked into the bathroom.

Jaune was confused. According to Qrow and the shopkeeper, Pyrrha should be doing _something_ by now. What, exactly, he wasn’t sure, but Pyrrha was no different than usual. Then it came to him. _Oh, yeah!_ Jaune thought. _Duh! Pyrrha’s got the constitution and stamina of a horse._ Quickly, he pulled out the flask again and added three more drops to her new bowl of stew. He rapidly hid the flask as she came out of the bathroom.

They picked up their conversation and Pyrrha finished her second bowl. She complimented Jaune on his cooking and wanted to wash the dishes, but Jaune insisted she sit and rest. He got the dishes and put them in the sink. _Well, it was worth a shot,_ Jaune thought. _Probably just as well._

He was beginning to fill the sink when Pyrrha spoke. “Jaune?”

“Yeah, Pyr?”

“Does it feel…hot in here to you?”

Jaune froze, the washcloth halfway between the stew bowls and the water. “Uh, not really.” The temperature in the dorm seemed no different than usual either.

“That’s odd.” Pyrrha shrugged and got out her Scroll. Jaune kept washing the dishes, but he kept an eye on her.

Which turned out to be a good thing. As Jaune watched out of the corner of one eye, Pyrrha’s breathing deepened noticeably. She opened the front of her shirt and waved her hand to try and get cooler air down it. He turned around at that, and she looked up at him. Even from the distance of about ten feet from each other, Jaune could tell Pyrrha’s eyes were dilated. She shakily took a drink of bottled water. “You…you okay, Pyrrha?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. Just fine!” Pyrrha was lousy at poker.

Jaune turned back to the dishes, and had the alternately disconcerting and interesting feeling of being mentally stripped by his battle partner. _Well, I guess that’s okay,_ Jaune thought. To his embarrassment, he’d mentally stripped Pyrrha a couple of times. And Weiss. And Yang. And Professor Goodwitch.

“J-Jaune…” Pyrrha gasped.

Jaune set down the bowl and turned around again. “Pyrrha? You sure you’re okay?” That was more for effect than anything else, because Pyrrha was clearly _not_ okay. She was breathing like she had just run a 100-meter dash and her skin was flushed. 

“I…I don’t…I…” Suddenly, Pyrrha leapt to her feet. She didn’t take off the T-shirt; she grabbed the hem and tore it off herself; Jaune was abruptly reminded that Pyrrha Nikos was rather strong. Underneath, she wore a sports bra of hardy material, but that was gone in a second, torn into three parts, freeing Pyrrha’s large breasts. Her nipples looked like pencil erasers. She grabbed her pants and tried to pull them off, slipped and fell—luckily onto Jaune’s bed. Pyrrha let loose a flood of curses that turned Jaune’s ears red, and stuck out her hand. Milo flew off the weapons rack and into her palm, and she used the blade to slice off her pants and panties. Once they were gone, the spear clattered to the floor, and Pyrrha sighed in relief. She leaped back to her feet. Jaune was stunned: Pyrrha was so wet moisture was trickling down her thighs, which he didn’t think was possible outside of porn. 

“Jaune!” she screamed. “I need a man!”

_Whoa,_ Jaune thought, _Qrow was right, but I don’t think it was supposed to work like_ this. “Um, Pyrrha—“

Pyrrha made a sound like a snarling panther, and leapt across the table in one bound. She landed nimbly on her feet in front of him, and tore at Jaune’s clothes, hissing and spitting like Blake in a bad mood. His shirt was torn off like hers had been, and Pyrrha cackled. She looked up into Jaune’s stunned face, then seized the back of his head and kissed him so hard he was sure she was going to leave bruises. Once she’d had her (temporary) fill of his lips and mouth, she ran her tongue down the front of his chest, arrived at his jeans with another hideous laugh, and grabbed the zipper with her teeth. Their eyes met. Pyrrha wore a demented smile he had last seen on a Beowulf scenting prey. 

“Oh, shit,” Jaune said.

Ren, Nora, Yang, Ruby and Blake arrived at the dorm around midnight. The arcade hopping had gotten cut short when Nora had destroyed the Whack-a-Grimm machine and gotten thrown out for her trouble. Truth to tell, the three members of Team RWBY were a bit on the tired side, having spent the day in the practice arena.

Weiss was waiting for them on the landing of their dorm stairwell. “Hey, Weiss!” Ruby greeted them. “Whatcha doing out here?”

The Schnee heiress at first said nothing. They could tell she looked both miffed and confused. “Has Pyrrha been acting strange lately?” she asked Ren and Nora. 

“No,” Ren answered. 

“She’s been pretty much her usual self,” Nora confirmed.

“Hmm. And Jaune?”

“Same dorky guy he always is,” Nora answered. “What’s going on?”

“Hmm,” Weiss repeated. “Follow me.” She turned and walked up the stairs, leaving a mystified half of Team JNPR and the rest of RWBY to follow. 

“Weiss, what’s going on?” Yang asked worriedly.

“I think Pyrrha finally snapped,” Weiss replied.

“She _killed_ Jaune?” Ruby asked in shock.

“I _wish,_ ” Weiss snapped. “At least if he was dead, I’d get some studying done.”

They reached the door of Team JNPR’s room. It was somewhat quiet, but they all jumped when the door was flung open. Jaune appeared in the doorway. He was naked except for the tattered remains of his shirt, which he held loosely over his genitals. His eyes were bloodshot, his chest was red with welts and purple bruises, one shoulder looked like it might be dislocated. Jaune looked like he had just fought Team CFVY, CRDL, and a horde of Ursa barehanded, alone. “Help me!” he croaked. “For the love of the gods, Ren—Nora—Team RWBY—help me!”

Yang rubbed her eyes, not quite believing what she saw. “What the actual hell?”

“She’s…she’s insatiable!” Jaune groaned. “She’s going to kill me!”

Pyrrha suddenly appeared next to him, naked. Her hair looked like she had stuck it in a socket, and the expression on her face was like a starving glutton faced with a crackling Non-Descript Winter Holiday turkey. “Where do you think _you’re_ going?” she growled with a decidedly evil grin on her face. She held up her Scroll. At the top of the device were the glowing words _Kama Sutra._ “We’ve still got thirty positions to go, Jaune!” She whipped away Jaune’s thin covering, revealing a member that had seen much, much better days. Pyrrha grabbed it with a laugh that would’ve unsettled Salem, and began rubbing at it. Yang covered Ruby’s eyes, and Blake covered Yang’s. Pyrrha faced them with a demented look. “Want to join in? Plenty of room!”

“We’re…we’re good,” Ren stammered.

“Yeah. Looks like you’re pretty, er, pretty busy there, Pyr!” Nora added.

Pyrrha’s grin faded. “Huh. Frigging prudes. Come on, Jaune.” She pulled him back into the room and kicked the door shut. They heard screaming and maniacal laughing inside. 

“Yeah. That,” Weiss said. “For the past few hours.” 

“Should we save him?” Ruby asked, prying off Yang’s hands.

“No thanks,” Blake said. “I have a feeling I wouldn’t be an innocent bystander for long. Or innocent anything.”

They all looked to Yang. Yang stared back. “What?”

“You have the best chance of survival,” Ren said.

“No way in _hell_ I’m going in there,” Yang told them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's when Jaune found out you don't fool around with the Funky Cold Medina. Be careful what you wish for.


	11. Let's Get Ready To Rumble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang and Ruby, home from Beacon for Fall Break, ask their father Taiyang why Raven and Summer were fighting over him. He reveals that they were *literally* fighting over him. 
> 
> It all begins with Team STRQ at a bar, too much Atlesian schnapps and Mistrali whiskey, and a mud wrestling ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, writing "The Last Petal of the Rose" was depressing. Let's have Summer doing something more fun. And sexy. And it's nice to write Raven back when she was just grumpy, rather than a moral coward.

Ruby and Yang were on fall break from Beacon Academy, and had come home for the break, back to Patch and their father, Taiyang Xiao Long. It was fun to be at home for a bit, and the girls sat content on the couch, watching Taiyang fix dinner. He had insisted on a home-cooked meal, rather than going out for their first day back. “So girls,” he asked them casually, “what are the boys like at Beacon these days?”

Ruby and Yang looked at each other. Ruby might be naïve, but even she knew that this was a subtle bit of interrogation. Tai wanted to know if his girls had any suitors—or they were eyeing any boys themselves. Yang sank back into the couch a little. Though Ruby might be as pure as the driven snow, this wasn’t the time for the elder sister to admit to her father that she hadn’t been a virgin in some time. “Oh, you know…about the same,” Yang said lamely.

Tai wasn’t fooled for a moment. “That bad, huh?” He took a knife from its holder and began methodically chopping onions. Yang wondered if that was coincidence or deliberate.

“No one’s interested in us, Dad.” Ruby tried to come to the rescue. It also happened to be the truth.

“Two beautiful girls, and no one’s interested?” He grinned at them, to let them know he was kidding them. Mostly.

“Nope,” Ruby insisted. “They seem more interested in our roommates, actually.”

“Oh? The Schnee girl and the Faunus you wrote me about?”

“Yeah,” Ruby said, unable to keep a little disappointment out of her voice.

Tai decided he’d pushed hard enough. He finished with the onions and began working on the spices. The stew was a Vacuo dish, and he wanted it to be tasty for his daughters. “Well, it’ll happen eventually. You know I’m just holding out for granddaughters.” 

“Ew,” Ruby said, sticking out her tongue.

“Bleah!” Yang added.

Tai smiled, because he remembered Summer and Raven saying the same thing as freshmen. And here were the results, sitting in front of him. Tai composed himself. Such beautiful daughters. He was so proud of them. He wished their mothers were there too, but Raven was gone and Summer was dead. Ruby and Yang got on the topic of someone named Jaune Arc and how stupid he was to be going after Weiss Schnee when he had Pyrrha Nikos right in front of him. He let them talk, just happy to hear his girls’ voices in a house that had been, recently, very quiet. Too quiet. 

After about half an hour, dinner was ready. They didn’t feel like sitting around the table, so Tai brought the food into the living room, and they ate on the couch. Zwei roused himself from his sleep and waddled over to beg. Tai caught himself remembering other meals at the couch—a littler Ruby spilling food everywhere, a smaller Yang playing silly games with hers. _I have to stop that,_ Tai admonished himself. _Feeling old as it is._

“Hey, Dad,” Yang asked, intruding on those thoughts, “you got pretty lucky with the girls at Beacon. Didn’t you have Mom _and_ Raven hungering for your bod?” Tai noted that Yang referred to her biological mother by her name, rather than “mom.” It had been a surprise to learn that Raven had finally contacted Yang after all these years, but Tai was not surprised that Yang insisted that Summer Rose was her actual mother in all but blood—a sentiment that Tai, to his regret, agreed with completely.

But that was a conversation for another day. “Yes, I did,” he said with utterly fake weighty self-importance. “I know you girls think of me as a hopeless old fogey today, but I was quite the ladies’ man at Beacon."

“Uncle Qrow said you were lucky if you could get three words out around Mom.” Leave it to Ruby to puncture his ego.

“Your mom talked so much _anyone_ was lucky to get three words in.” The younger sister laughed, but Tai saw Yang get somber. He wasn’t going to have either of his girls be depressed, so he decided to tell them a story. “I’ll tell you what a ladies’ man I was, you two. I had girls _literally_ fighting over the right to date me.”

Yang and Ruby looked at each other again, and burst out laughing. Tai shrugged. “Well, fine. Don’t believe me. I guess I won’t tell the story, then.”

“Dad, no,” Yang giggled. “You’ve _got_ to tell this story.” Ruby nodded emphatically.

“Fine.” Tai stretched, took a drink to wet his throat, and began.

It was a bar in Vale called Rowdy Bob’s _,_ where the music was something Haven cowboys listened to, the floors were wood, and the booze was cheap. It was also off-limits to Beacon Academy students, especially underage ones, but Team STRQ hardly let that stop them. Qrow and Raven didn’t believe in rules, and Taiyang was known to stretch them. That left Summer to protest weakly that they shouldn’t be in Rowdy Bob’s, but she found herself being dragged in anyway.

Tai had been noticing a change in Raven Branwen’s attitude lately. She was still the mercurial, acid-tongued young woman he had tripped into their first day, still homicidal before her first cup of coffee, but he had noticed she had been looking at him strangely. There was a certain smoldering in her eyes, and once, when he had gone through the dorm room without a shirt on, only in his shorts, Tai had felt Raven’s eyes on him the whole time. He had filled out lately, a constant two years of combat training turning him from the skinny farmer kid from Patch into the muscled brawler, who punched Grimm literally in the face. Alone among Team STRQ, Tai eschewed a weapon.

He’d talked with Qrow about it, and found the other man rather pleased to have Tai possibly dating his twin sister. He hadn’t talked to Summer; it felt wrong, somehow. It had been Qrow who suggested getting some liquid courage into both Tai and Raven. Tai took a drink of his beer; maybe tonight would be the night he’d ask her out.

Qrow, for his part, was introducing Summer to alcohol. He held up a shot glass. “Now this,” he said in his gravelly voice, “this is Mistrali whiskey, Short Stack.” Qrow’s pet name for the smallest member of Team STRQ had at first grated on Summer, but now she liked it—though if anyone outside the team dared to use it, she would drop them on the spot. “Aged in a barrel. This is top shelf.” He handed it to Summer, who stared at the glass as if it was a grenade with the pin pulled. 

“You going to drink it or analyze it?” Raven said. Summer was her friend, but she enjoyed needling the other girl.

Summer threw her a look of defiance, grabbed the shot, and slugged it down in one gulp. That was a mistake. Her silver eyes widened, she coughed and hacked, and for a moment, they all worried the whiskey was coming right back up. Summer pounded her chest, her face turned red, but she kept it down. Qrow slapped her back, which was inadvisable, as it set off another round of coughs. “Good job,” he told her.

“Yeah, good job,” Raven agreed, then took her own shot of Mistrali whiskey and slammed it down. All she did was smirk at Summer.

“Maybe that was a bit much,” Tai said. “You’re not going to keep up with these two problem drinkers, Summer.” He held up his beer. “Maybe start with something not quite as strong?”

To his surprise, Summer shot him a baleful glare. Without taking her eyes off Tai, she said, “Okay! What’s next?”

What was next was Vacuo gin. Then Vale bourbon. After that, Atlesian schnapps. Then it was mixed drinks—a Dead Grimm (Atlesian peppermint schnapps cut with Hunting Master liquor); a White Fang Car Bomb (Menagerie cream and Mistrali whiskey dropped into a glass of Haven stout beer); finally a vile concoction called, for some reason, Salem’s Wrath (grain alcohol cut with plum wine). Tai only sampled the Dead Grimm and kept to his beer, which left him with only a faint buzz. Qrow, whose liver had already given up and moved out, was slightly drunk but still in command of his faculties. 

Summer and Raven, on the other hand, were hammered. 

Raven was used to alcohol—though not to the extent of her brother, she knew her way around a shot glass. Summer was completely new to it, and her metabolism was something to behold. She had matched Raven shot for shot, though Qrow had quietly watered down Summer’s drinks, for fear she would have to be hospitalized with alcohol poisoning. And it got worse. Qrow had hoped the drinks might loosen some tongues. It had, but not in a way he had anticipated. 

“You don’t have a chance,” Raven snarled at Summer.

Summer slammed back the the remains of her Salem’s Wrath. “And you do? I’m cute. I get up and I brush my hair and I’m cheerful in the morning. I make cookies and drink milk. You?” She snorted. “You’re pretty, yeah, but you sleep in until noon, your hair looks like you stuck your finger in an outlet, and you’re bitchy all damn day!” She folded her arms. “Tai doesn’t want a bitch. He wants a woman.”

Raven laughed and made a show of looking around. “Really? Because I don’t see a woman at this bar except me.” She pretended to notice Summer for the first time. “Oh, and this _kid_ sitting here in front of me."

Summer’s fingers reached for another shot of gin. Qrow tried to move it out of her grasp, but she whirled on him with such a glare that he thought he might end his days blown apart by silver eyes. She grabbed it and sank the glass, turning that look on Raven. Raven’s red eyes merely stared back, and she finished her White Fang Car Bomb. “Yeah?” Summer spat. “What do you got that I haven’t?”

“Nothing. I just have more of them.”

“Yeah, you sure do,” Summer shot back. She leaned down towards Raven’s crotch. “Listen, Qrow! I can hear the sea!”

Raven’s eyes blazed. “At least I’m experienced and not a virgin, like _some_ people.”

Tai tried to step in. “Ladies, please, let’s not go—“ Raven stuck a hand in his face.

“Maybe I’m a virgin,” Summer hissed, “but at least Tai wouldn’t be throwing a hot dog down a hallway!”

“Bitch!” Raven shouted.

“Slut!” Summer yelled.

“Cunt!”

Conversation ceased anywhere near the bar, and heads turned in Team STRQ’s direction as Raven dropped the tactical nuclear weapon of female insults. Summer stood, almost fell, and threw her hood back. “That’s it.” She pointed towards the door. “Let’s go outside, Raven. After I punch your fucking lights out—“ the rest of Team STRQ blanched at Summer’s profanity, because she rarely cursed “— _I’ll_ ask Tai out. And you can watch as we have a good time!”

Raven got to her feet, also a bit unsteadily. “Sounds great, Summer. And after I knock your teeth down your fucking throat, _I_ will ask Taiyang out, and you can _listen_ as I bang his brains out!” Then she had a sudden idea. It was a terrible idea, but Raven was not known for sound judgement when she was sober, let alone drunk. She pointed to the edge of the bar. “Let’s not bother going out in the street. Let’s settle it...in the ring.”

Tai and Qrow followed Raven’s finger, and both their jaws dropped. Raven was pointing to a wrestling ring, except that the ring was filled with mud. Rowdy Bob’s had mud wrestling every Saturday. It was a Friday, but the mud was already there. Raven turned to the bartender. “How about it, barkeep? My…’friend’ and I would like to use the facilities.”

“Er…” The bartender looked past her to the rest of the bar. Instantly thumbs-up, devil horns, and a lot of lien was held up. Staring at his rent payment and possibly his children’s college education, he nodded. “Yes, ma’am! Let me get it warmed up for you!”

“Summer?” Raven asked, grinning savagely. “First one to pin the other gets Tai.”

“Wait, wait!” Tai knew it was far too late for either to see reason, but he had to try. “Don’t I get a vote here?”

“Nope,” Summer said, smacking her lips on the “e” emphatically. “You’re on, Raven.” She cracked her knuckles.

The bartender ran over to the ring, switching on the lights, the crowd parting before him. He grabbed some Fire Dust from a locked container and threw it into a heater beneath the mud. It was quickly heated to just over eighty degrees, and he stepped back as Summer and Raven made their way to the ring. Tai was pushed forward by the crowd, men slapping him on the back and shaking his hand in envy for having two beautiful girls fighting over him. Qrow grabbed a bottle of Mistrali whiskey—a big bottle--and followed him. As they reached ringside, Tai took the bottle, ripped out the cork, and drank.

The barkeep was kind enough to rig a sort of cardboard privacy screen for the girls, but Raven gave a snort and walked up the ring stairs. She had been wearing a T-shirt that loudly proclaimed BEER IS GOOD, ripped blue jeans and combat boots, but those came off in a hurry, leaving Raven dressed in a lacy black bra and matching panties. The crowd cheered. Raven hopped into the mud, sank to her ankles, and gave Summer the finger.

Summer had been heading towards the privacy screen, not quite drunk enough not to be embarrassed. At the sight of Raven’s disdain, however, she scrunched up her cheeks, turned away, and marched up the other set of ring stairs. Though she was beet red in the face, Summer—who had dressed conservatively in a red blouse, white dress, and flat shoes, plus her white cape and hood—stripped down as quickly as Raven had. Naturally, her bra and panties were white, and to Tai’s surprise, the panties were Vacuo-cut, riding high up on Summer’s narrow thighs. He drank more of the whiskey as Raven turned and slapped her very attractive rear. Summer hopped into the mud, bent over, and rotated _her_ rear directly in front of Tai, to the cheers of the crowd. This time Qrow took the bottle and drank. 

The bartender grabbed a microphone. “This bout is scheduled for one fall—“

“ONE FALL!” the crowd yelled.

“—and will be won either by pinfall or if one lady is thrown over the top rope and to the floor. In this corner—“

He was cut off as Raven turned and hit Summer with a flying tackle. Summer, taken by surprise, hit the mud hard, instantly caking her red-highlighted hair, back, butt, and thighs in brown mud. Huntress training emphasized never giving one’s opponent a break, and Raven used that training to good advantage: she pounced on Summer and began punching her. Auras flared. 

“Raven!” Qrow shouted. “No closed fists!”

“Fine!” Raven screamed back, and got to her feet, pulling Summer up with her. “Quit now, Summer, because Tai’s _mine,”_ she whispered in her opponent’s ear, and tossed her into the turnbuckles. Raven stood triumphantly in the center of the ring as Summer caught her breath. “Give up so soon?” the bandit girl taunted.

Summer’s head came up and she grinned. “Bring it, bitch!” She made a come-hither gesture.

“Gladly!” Raven screamed, and charged, intent on pushing Summer over the turnbuckles and out of the ring. She had underestimated the cloying nature of the mud, and as a result, her charge was slow. Summer grabbed the ring ropes and planted two muddy feet in Raven’s face. The other Huntress staggered back. Now it was Summer’s turn to hit with a spear, and both went into the mud. 

Summer was not much of a professional wrestling fan, but she’d seen enough in the dorm commons that she knew what a pinfall was. She straddled Raven and pushed her shoulders down. The crowd gave the count. _“One! Two!”_

Raven, however, was far from finished. This sort of no-holds-barred match was just how the Branwen tribe trained its children, and she was able to get a shoulder up, then overpower Summer and slam her into the mud. Both girls rolled like alligators fighting, throwing mud everywhere, but somehow Summer ended up on top as they stopped close to the ring’s edge. Both were now thoroughly soaked in warm mud. Summer reached up and wiped muck from her eyes, which smoldered in Atlesian schnapps-fueled rage. Before her brain processed what she was doing, she had reached down, grabbed Raven’s bra, and torn it off. Beacon training also emphasized that everything was a weapon with enough imagination, and her her haze of anger and booze, all Summer saw was a possible garrote. It was only when she held the bra over her head that she realized what she had done. “Oh no,” she breathed. “Raven, I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

Raven saw only advantage in the smaller girl’s distraction. She seized a double handful of Summer’s chest and threw her off back to the center of the ring, then got to her feet. The mud streaked Raven’s breasts, but they were on display for everyone to see. Tai took the whiskey back from Qrow and drank. She noticed the movement and turned just for a moment, so Tai could get the full view, hoisted them for his inspection, and licked her lips. Tai took another swig.

Summer rolled to her feet, fumed at the look on Tai’s face, and charged Raven. This time, however, the former bandit was ready, and executed a perfect hip toss on Summer. The Huntress hit the mud and slid as Raven bounced off the ropes and dived in for the pin. Summer tried to squirm free, but Raven was too quick. Instead of immediately going for the pinfall, however, Raven, with an evil cackle, reached down and tore Summer’s bra off. Now it was Summer’s smallish breasts that were out, the little nipples hard with the exertion of the fight. Raven threw the bra aside and went for the pin. “ _One!”_ shouted the crowd. _“Two!”_ But there was no three, and she looked up at the crowd in anger. Tai pointed to Summer’s right foot, which was on the lowest rope. Qrow used the opportunity to grab the bottle. 

“Rope break,” Raven groaned. “Didn’t know you knew wrestling, Summer.”

“I know a bit. Like this!” Summer got her legs under her, planted them against Raven’s nude chest, and pushed. Off-balance, the other woman fell backwards, but she was back on her feet quickly. Summer felt the breeze on her chest, but ignored it. Her vision had narrowed to Raven. It was no longer just about Tai; it was putting that smirking bitch into the ground. 

This time they stalked each other around the ring. Raven’s foot came down wrong, and she slipped; Summer saw her opening and charged. Too late, she realized it was a trap: Raven let Summer skid past, grabbed her around the waist, and suplexed her headfirst into the mud. It was too slick, and this time Raven’s feet went out from under her for real. Summer thought fast and got one shoulder up before a count could start, and Raven, knowing her gambit had failed, pushed herself away from her opponent, her fingers sliding down Summer’s waist—and, scrambling for purchase, grabbed Summer’s panties. Raven dragged them halfway down the muddy thighs before she came loose and rolled to her feet. She saw what had happened. “Summer!” She pointed frantically at the panties, down around the other girl’s knees. Raven might have a cruel streak, but stripping Summer nude in front of a crowd of perfect strangers was beyond even her.

Summer Rose was bashful. Though she had a very attractive if petite body, she was raised with modesty, a complete contrast to the more carefree bandit lifestyle. So while Raven might walk through the dorm room in her underwear, Summer was so prudish that she would not take off hers until the shower was running, and the door to the bathroom was locked. After gym workouts, she waited until the other Huntresses had left before she showered, even if it made her late for the next class.

But now, bashful, blushing Summer was too damn mad to care. The panties were obstructing her from getting her hands around Raven’s throat, so they had to go. She pulled her legs up, threw them aside, and stood up, now completely naked. Tai saw the shaved stripe of muddy black hair at the junction of Summer’s thighs; he didn’t grab the whiskey, because an understanding neighbor shoved a beer into his hand. He turned it up instantly.

Raven’s red eyes met Summer’s silver ones, and she nodded, reached down, and took off her own panties, exposing her nude, unmuddied backside, making them even. Qrow nearly choked on his whiskey, and Tai drank harder. Summer smiled, gave her a quick salute as a worthy opponent, then ran forward. Raven brought up her hands, but the other girl suddenly threw herself into a baseball slide, went between the bandit girl’s thighs, grabbed Raven’s ankles, and pulled her feet out from under her. Raven went face first into the mud.

Summer knew she had a short window of opportunity. Despite her nudity, she climbed the turnbuckle to the top rope, glanced over her shoulder, and used her Semblance to throw herself backwards into a moonsault, scattering rose petals as she did so. Raven had rolled over to get to her feet, only to be slammed down into the mud as Summer landed on her. All of her breath went out in a woosh, and the smaller Huntress got a hand under her leg, lifted it into the air, didn’t notice that Tai could now see Raven’s nether lips completely unobstructed. The beer was finished as the crowd counted to three. The bartender wisely did not enter the ring, merely pointed at Summer as the winner, and the bar exploded into cheers. 

Summer, exhausted, rolled off Raven. She looked at her opponent, and to her surprise, tears were rolling down her face. “Raven?” she said quietly, just enough that she could be heard only by the other girl over the roar of the crowd. “Why are you crying? Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m fine.” The fact that the tears still flowed made it an obvious lie.

And then Summer remembered. It sobered her up—well, somewhat. She crawled close. “Listen. It’s okay. Ask him out.”

“No…you won, Short Stack. It’s okay.”

“Nah.” She ruffled Raven’s hair, the messiest it had ever been. “You take him out. Look at him, Raven! He wants you.”

“It’s because he can see right up Main Street, Summer.” She rolled over and brought up her knees to hide herself. 

“Nope,” Summer insisted. “He liked you long before tonight. Come on. Do it!” 

Raven sat up. “Oh, hell, Summer. Never could say no to you. Okay, okay.”

“But you got to tell everyone I beat you in wrestling.”

They looked at each other, the absurdity of their situation hit them, and they began to laugh. Raven got to her feet, dragged Summer up with her, and raised her friend’s hand up in triumph. The crowd cheered even louder. Both Huntresses were laughing still, both naked and dripping with mud, but Summer, oddly, felt rather free at the moment, if drafty. Raven slapped her butt and opened the ring ropes for her, and Summer slithered out into a robe held to her by the bartender, who was discreet enough to look away. Raven threw Tai a wink, and followed Summer out. They shared a hug, and Raven pretended not to notice that her friend’s face was also wet with tears.

Yang and Ruby stared at their father in shock. “You…you mean…Raven basically _won_ the right to date you?” the older sister stammered.

“In a mud wrestling match?” Ruby exclaimed.

“Yep.” Tai folded his beefy arms over himself in smug satisfaction. “She asked me out as soon as she’d showered and dressed. We went out the next night. We graduated a few months later, and I asked her to marry me on the anniversary of the mud match.” Tai smiled. “And you were born six months later, Yang.”

“Six months?” Ruby asked. “Yang was a premie?”

“Nope.”

“Ohh.” Ruby was not _that_ naïve. “And on that note,” the young reaper said, “I’m going to use the Little Huntress’ room.” She got up and walked towards the bathroom.

As soon as the door closed, Yang leaned forward. “C’mon, Dad,” she said lowly, conspiratorially, “that’s not really what happened.”

Tai shrugged. “Why would I lie?”

Yang regarded her father for a long moment. “Nahhh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was Taiyang telling the truth? Meh, who knows. Never let the truth get in the way of a good story. Usually. 
> 
> Have I mentioned I'm a total WWE/WWF mark? This match is loosely based on a "bra and panties" match between Trish Stratus and Lita, though neither one of them ended up naked (which would've given Jerry Lawler another heart attack). Raven's moves were based on Lita for the first half of the match and Summer on Trish's, then they reversed because I wanted Summer doing that moonsault. 
> 
> We don't know what Summer's Semblance is, but for the sake of the fanfic, we'll figure Ruby inherited hers from her mother. 
> 
> Finally, some of these drinks are based on real ones! A Dead Grimm is a Dead Nazi, a White Fang Car Bomb is an Irish Car Bomb. Salem's Wrath is based on a Battletech drink called a PPC (the Liao PPC to be exact). I don't advise drinking period, but drinking a PPC might just be fatal.


	12. Private Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are tense as Ironwood, Ace Ops, and Team RWBY square off. Then Salem appears.
> 
> And she's naked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some pretty big Season 7 spoilers in here, so if you're planning on watching it later or haven't watched last week's episode yet, you might want to skip this chapter for now.

“ _Are_ you with me?”

General James Ironwood’s accusation hung in the air. Blake, who had just said that they—Team RWBY and Ace Ops— _were_ with Ironwood, was not expecting that response. Her ears wilted under the accusation. 

“Sir?” Vine Zeki sounded surprised, which in itself was disconcerting. Vine rarely showed any emotion.

Ironwood stood and slowly walked around his desk. He tried to keep the pain off of his face—the physical pain from his flayed arm, the emotional pain of betrayal. “How did Robyn Hill know about the Global Communications Project?” He speared Yang and Blake with a stare. Ace Ops turned to look as well.

Yang hesitated, but the position of Blake’s ears, and the guilt on Yang’s face, told Ironwood everything he needed to know before she even spoke. “We told her,” she admitted. “The night of the ambush.”

“You did _what?”_ Elm Ederne exclaimed.

“We were trying to help!” Yang protested.

“By going behind our backs?” Marrow Amin wanted to know.

Harriet Bree stalked over to Yang. “Does that mean you let her escape?”

“Robyn is on our side,” Yang shot back. She faced Harriet head on. “She always has been!”

“We didn’t know that for sure!” Ironwood snapped. No one noticed the bag on Ironwood’s desk start to tremble. It had been Arthur Watts’ bag, brought back from Amity Arena, where the general had defeated the hacker. 

“None of this matters now!” Weiss shouted. The bag began to bulge dangerously, like a volcano threatening to erupt.

“Loyalty _always_ matters!” Ironwood exploded.

And so did the bag. The top, held together by the handles, was blown off, releasing a Seer Grimm. Everyone fell back; Ironwood’s pistol was out in a flash, despite his injuries, and he put his back to the wall. The tentacles of the Seer clicked together like an angry octopus at first, then even more horrifically shriveled up as the red globe that formed the Seer’s body glowed.

“General Ironwood.” The voice was high and breathy. Ironwood’s eyes widened in fear. Ice crawled up his backbone. He’d never heard the voice before, but somehow, he knew who it belonged to.

The Seer’s globe went dark, and it clattered to the floor, cracking as it did so. Then it dissolved, but instead of the normal cloud of black smoke left by a dead Grimm, this smoke coalesced, becoming a vaguely humanoid shape, then feminine, then fully formed. Team RWBY stepped back even further, because they recognized that shape from Haven.

It was Salem.

What they were not prepared for, however, was the fact that the Undead Queen of the Grimm, the most terrifying foe in the history of Remnant, the one responsible for so much death and destruction…was completely naked. Her eyes were shut, a ghastly smile on her pale lips, her hair released from its normal bun and braids to fall in white waves over her shoulders. That was not as surprising as what her black-veined hands were doing, however. One was cupped around a generous breast, the thumb moving over an erect, dark gray nipple. The other was plunged between her legs. Her entire body was coated in what at first the astounded onlookers thought was sweat, but then realized was actually falling water. 

“ _Ahhh…_ ” Salem moaned. “Ohh…yesss.” Her fingers spread her folds open, and plunged two fingers inside. Yang covered Ruby’s eyes; the reaper started flailing, trying to get Yang’s hand off her face. Elm leaned forward and put both of her large hands over Harriet’s eyes; the speedster did _not_ try to get the big woman’s hands off. Weiss looked mildly nauseous. Marrow’s mouth dropped open, and Vine glanced down. The Faunus’ tail was wagging furiously, so Vine reached out and grabbed it. 

“That’s right…right there…oh, by the godssss…” Salem raised the hand around her breast to her mouth, and began sucking on her fingers. “Give to me…give it to me _hard…_ Irondaddy!”

While Salem pleasured herself furiously, eyes still shut in pure passion, everyone in Team RWBY and Ace Ops turned to look at Ironwood. He stared back and raised his hands; he had no idea what the hell was going on either.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Salem now had both hands between her legs, and was arching her back, rubbing her back against something unseen. For their sanity’s sake, everyone hoped it wasn’t a Grimm. “Oh, gods! Yes! Give me that steel cock, Ironwood! Yes! Make me your love soldier, General! Order me _eee! Yesssss!”_ Ruby finally pried Yang’s hands away from her eyes, just in time to watch her most hated enemy bring herself to a thunderous orgasm, her head thrown back, her legs spasming, gasping for air and screaming James Ironwood’s name. The owner of that name had turned crimson in embarrassment and was studiously _not_ watching Salem.

“Mmmm…” Salem sank down a little, obviously very satisfied, shut off the water somehow, and her blood red eyes slowly came open. They blinked in confusion, still in the afterglow, then flew wide open. _“EEEEEK!”_ Salem screamed, as if Team RWBY and Ace Ops were mice. Her hands came up in a vain attempt to cover herself, then one shot out offscreen to grab a towel. “What the hell?” the witch screeched. “How the flying frickety-frack are you _watching me?”_

Ruby raised a hand, as if being called upon by a teacher. “Er…you called us.”

“What?” Salem leaned forward. “Wait. Is this Watts’ Seer? How the crap did he get this number?” Salem wrapped the towel around herself, then tapped her chin in thought. “Oh, that’s right, I gave it to him. Still, he shouldn’t be able to see into my shower…” Her teeth bared in anger. “That perverted son of a bitch! Where is he?”

“We captured him,” Weiss said defiantly.

“Good. Sick bastard! Ecchi! When I get to Atlas I’ll kill him myself and spare the taxpayers the expense!” Then Salem suddenly seemed to realize who she was talking to. “Hold on. Is that Team RWBY?”

“Yep,” Yang confirmed. "Looks like you're doing _fine,_ Salem." Her words fairly dripped with sarcasm.

“Well, you know how it is," Salem answered. "And those beyond you are…Ace Ops. The elite team of Atlas’ military.” The undead queen snorted. “You don’t impress me much.”

“Oh yeah?” Elm took her hands away from Harriet’s face and jammed them on her hips. “At least we’re not jilling off in front of total strangers!”

Salem paused. “Hold on. How long were you sick fucks actually watching me?”

“It wasn’t by choice!” Marrow yelled, hands positioned over his crotch. “The Seer popped out and you appeared!”

To their complete surprise, Salem actually blushed. “Oh. Well. Ahem. Errr….what part did you, ah, come in at?”

Yang answered, of course. “Roughly about the part when you were asking General Ironwood to stick his, and I quote, ‘steel cock’ in you.”

Ironwood finally found his voice. “I do _not_ have a steel cock! The Grimm didn’t get me there, thank the gods!”

Salem put her head in her hands. “Oh, shit.” After a moment, she lifted it again. “Well, damn. I was going to tell you how I’m one step ahead of you, and I’m personally on my way to Atlas after I finish my shower, and you’re all going to die unless Irondad—er, Ironwood gives me the Relics, but that sounds kind of lame now.”

“Irondaddy?” Vine asked.

“Oh yes. I have something… _special_ planned for James Ironwood.” Salem turned in place, faced Ironwood, licked her lips, and opened her towel to flash him. “Too bad about the steel cock. I was looking forward to that.”

“Can we stop talking about General Ironwood’s willie?” Blake wanted to know. She hadn’t been this shocked since Yang slipped with the strap-on and accidentally found the wrong hole. 

“We’ve seen what you’re capable of. The lamp showed us.” Ruby didn’t shout the words, only stated them as fact. The room went dead silent. Salem retied the towel and turned back to them. “It showed us everything.”

Salem closed her eyes. “Oh, _great._ Everything? That tattletale Jinn didn’t show you the time Ozma used the ice cubes and oven mitts, did he?”

“Uhm, no, that never came up.” Ruby said. “But we’ve seen you can’t be killed—“

“Ozma damn near killed me that night. Woo, doggies. No _wonder_ we had four kids.” Salem blew out her breath.

Ruby decided to ignore that. “—but we’ve also seen you fail. We don’t have to kill you to stop you. And we _will_ stop you.”

Salem drifted over to stop in front of Ruby. “Your mother said those same words to me,” she said casually. “And she was wrong too.”

“My…mother?” Ruby’s voice broke pitifully.

“And I’ll tell you the same thing I told her.” Salem leaned down, closer, as Ruby’s silver eyes filled with tears. “’Did I come at a bad time?’”

“What…what are you talking about?” Yang cried, hugging her sister, trying to shield her from Salem.

“Well, let’s see…Summer Rose and Taiyang Xiao Long were naked…I think they were in a reverse cowgirl.” Her smile widened to satanic proportions. “I do believe that was the night you were conceived, Ruby Rose. Your mother was a screamer. _As are you.”_

“No!” Ruby screamed. She fell to her knees. “You’re lying! You don’t know! You can’t know that!”

“Oh, I know quite a bit…about all of you.” Salem drew herself back up to her full height and more. “Ruby Rose is no longer a virgin. Did any of you know that?”

“Who’s the soon-to-be-dead asshole that took your virginity, Ruby?” Yang demanded.

“And you were _lying_ about ‘slipping’ with the strap-on, Yang Xiao Long,” Salem laughed.

“You said it was an accident!” Blake yelled. Yang faced her, guilt once more all over her face.

“And you, Blake Belladonna…you _also_ lied about having a headache the night before last.”

“Ah _ha!”_ Yang pointed at Blake. “I knew it!”

“But you’re insatiable!” Blake whined. “I need a night off every now and then, you nympho!”

Salem’s red eyes drifted over to Weiss. “Weiss Schnee. Do your teammates know that you used your Semblance to tie yourself to your own bed so you could, and I quote, ‘be ravaged’ by Jaune Arc?”

Yang whirled on Weiss. “Whoa, you _did_ that? After totally saying you would _never_ do that?”

Weiss stepped back and folded her arms over her chest defiantly. “I…I never did that! Fake news!”

Ace Ops was stunned, to say the least, learning a lot more about Team RWBY than they ever wanted to. Salem next turned her attention to them, pointing at each in turn. “Vine, you have downloaded so much tentacle hentai that it nauseates even _me_. Marrow, you have a human girlfriend and you’re hard as a rock right now at my undead body; you're a sick puppy. Elm, you’re still a virgin because you’re afraid you’ll break any man with those thunder thighs of yours. Harriet, you’re _not_ a virgin, but you’ve put three men in the hospital with friction burns, and _none_ of them will return your Scroll calls.”

Ace Ops quickly turned on each other, laughing at Vine for acting all calm and collected when he was a horrible pervert, and laughing at Marrow for getting turned on by Salem. Harriet accused Elm of being a complete liar for boasting how many men she’d had, while Elm retaliated that, while she might still be a virgin, at least she wasn’t burning anyone’s penises off. Ruby continued to weep, Weiss continued to deny everything, Blake and Yang were at each other’s throats.

Salem smiled triumphantly and turned back to Ironwood. She dropped the towel and ran her hands over her naked body. “They’re divided, General. Hopelessly divided. My victory is virtually assured. And when I have the Relics, why…we’ll see, won’t we?” She winked. “See you soon…Irondaddy.”

Ironwood sank to his knees as Salem’s form dissipated into black smoke and faded from view. He’d failed. They’d all failed.

The doors suddenly flew open, admitting a tall woman with black hair falling over one side of a face covered in a half-mask, dressed entirely in black. “Excuse me!” she shouted over the din. “Is this where I can find the Winter…Maiden…” All eyes fell on Cinder Fall. “No…I guess not,” she said, smiled weakly, and slowly closed the door. “Sorry to interrupt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Salem always finds a way to win. (Unless it's Ren, of course.) Maybe she doesn't care about the Relics; she just needs to work off some...frustration. 
> 
> I'm not even sure there is a ship name for Ironwood and Salem. I broke the RWBY online shipping chart trying to find it.


	13. Won't You Take Me To Funkytown?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a tough workout with her sister, Weiss Schnee needs a shower. After a tough workout with Team JNR, Flynt Coal needs a shower too.
> 
> Awkwardness, accidents and anarchy ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anonymous reviewer who only signed their comment "May I make a request?" asked if I could do the ship of Weiss and Flynt (Cool Jazz). I responded that I'd try because I like challenges. 
> 
> It took me a week to figure out how I was going to do it, but inspiration struck. Whoever you are, reviewer--this one's for you.

Weiss Schnee blew out her breath as she entered the ladies’ locker room. Training at Atlas Academy’s advanced training facility might be a lot of fun, but it was also a lot of work. Not only was her Aura low, so was her deodorant. She lifted a sleeve and sniffed, then made a face. _That stuff said it was strong enough for a man. My smooth butt!_

She walked past the showers. Someone was apparently in there, because there was a billow of thick steam and the sound of running water. Weiss paid it no attention: it was probably Nora, since JNR had been going up against Team FNKI in one of the other rooms. Weiss had been fighting her sister, but it wasn’t Winter—the elder Schnee sister was still in the training room, taking a call from General Ironwood. 

Weiss stopped at her locker and stripped off her uniform. Her new outfit was certainly warm and provided more protection—after being impaled by Cinder Fall, Weiss was very interested in armor to supplement her Aura—but it was a pain to get dressed and undressed. She placed Myrtenaster in a sconce in the locker, then began the process of getting everything off. Finally, as she heard the water shut off in the shower room, she was down to her underwear. She removed the hairpiece, which caused her long braid to fall down her back, rather than the side. She would unbraid it in the shower. Weiss ran a hand across her hair; even after a workout, it was luxurious. It would also be a pain to wash, but she rather liked her long hair. Why Blake had cut hers mystified Weiss, though she supposed it was better than getting Gambol Shroud tangled in it. 

Weiss paused for a moment, then shrugged, took off her bra, and stepped out of her panties. She tucked a towel over her arm and walked naked towards the shower. She’d been naked in front of Nora before, and vice-versa, at Beacon. None of the girls’ bodies of Team RWBY or JNPR were a mystery; she’d even shared a stall with a blushing Pyrrha once when all the girls at Beacon ended up showering at the same time. Weiss _had_ looked at her female teammates and companions, to compare them with herself. With the exception of Ruby, all of them had bigger busts, which irked her a bit, but other than that, they were certainly all built the same. There was nothing sexual about it. Weiss had noted that a few Huntresses shaved “down there,” which was occasionally suggested for Huntresses going into areas where baths might be few and far between and parasites flourished. She knew Ruby had done it, more or less for experimental purposes, but she wasn’t going to try it. _Come to think of it,_ Weiss thought sourly, _Cinder shaved. Hmpf. Probably burned it off. Your time’s coming, you fiery slut_. Her side still hurt when the weather changed.

She heard the slap of bare feet on tiles, and turned the corner. Yet instead of the nude form of the shorter natural redhead Nora Valkyrie, it was the decidedly not shorter, not redheaded, and not even female form of Flynt Coal. He was, however, naked.

They stopped cold at the sight of each other. Flynt had his towel around his neck, still wet from the shower. With a glance—Weiss was good at quick assessments—she saw that he was something like Ren, lean but muscular, but someone who clearly worked out, with a broad chest tapering down to a flat stomach, but not built like a bodybuilder, like Sun Wukong or Cardin Winchester. His legs were muscular as well, a product of a lot of running. Weiss was something of a leg girl: she did like men with good, hard legs. He was nice looking as well, a handsome man with an easy smile that could break out into a friendly grin at any time.

And inevitably, in the second she had to take in Flynt, her eyes involuntarily went to his crotch. Weiss didn’t have a lot of experiences with penises—her only sexual partner had been Jaune Arc, and then only recently—and Flynt did not look all that bigger. He was, however, semi-hard, probably from the heat of the shower, and Weiss quickly looked away. “Sorry!” she said.

“Uh, yeah!” he said hurriedly. “Me too!” 

“What are you doing here?” Weiss demanded. “This is the girls’ locker room!” Then a terrible thought hit her. “Isn’t it?”

Flynt covered his eyes in embarrassment. “It is. The showers on the men’s side are broken, and I was really kind of gross after our workout with JNR, so I ducked in here.” He put up his hands, as if to ward off a punch. “Honest, Weiss, I wouldn’t have if I thought there was anyone else training today. I am so sorry. I didn’t even hear you come in.” He closed his eyes. “Shit, I am in so much trouble…”

Weiss just laughed. In the scheme of things, being caught naked by someone wasn't that big of a deal anymore. “Oh, it’s all right, Flynt. I wouldn’t make a habit of it, but no harm done. You didn’t know. Better get dressed and out of here, though. My sister might be here any minute.” _And Winter will probably castrate you,_ she thought.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. 

“It’s okay.” Weiss spread her arms wide. “As you can see, the Schnee family has nothing to hide.”

Flynt snickered, and their eyes met, brown on blue. They quickly broke the stare, but that left Weiss looking back at Flynt’s crotch, while he inspected the ceiling tiles. This time she couldn’t look away, because she _didn’t_ have anything to hide—and if Flynt was trying not to look at her, his member had other ideas. It most definitely had noticed Weiss’ nudity, because as she watched, it began to harden. Fascinated, she kept looking at it, which only made things worse, and within seconds he was stiff as a board, its darkened head pointed directly at her face like a gun. Weiss swallowed, unable to take her eyes away.

“Uh…” Flynt saw how the girl’s eyes were getting bigger as _he_ was getting bigger, which didn’t help whatsoever, and worse, he was having a tough time not looking at Weiss, who was, after all, quite beautiful. He had the brief image, in his mind’s eye, of putting his hands on those cute breasts, and maybe his lips beneath that white bit of pubic hair, the way he did when he wanted to drive Neon Katt wild…

The thought of his battle partner and lover snapped Flynt out of it, about the same time Weiss’ logical brain (“What am I doing, this guy’s practically a perfect stranger, stop it, Weiss!”) kicked the hell out of her lizard brain (“HOLY CRAP THAT’S AN ERECTION STICK IT IN YOU”). They locked eyes again, and burst out laughing. “Oh, man,” Flynt said, and draped a towel around his middle. It was still tented, but it was better than the full monty.

“No, that’s my fault,” Weiss said before he could apologize again. “I shouldn’t be staring. I’ve got a boyfriend, kind of.”

He threw her a wave. “Let’s get out of here before your sister or my girl finds us.”

“Right.” They were still laughing as they parted, with Flynt walking out of the shower and Weiss walking in. 

Then she hit a patch of water and slipped. 

Weiss screamed a horrible oath as she fell forward—right into Flynt. With roughly 110 pounds of former Schnee heiress hitting him unexpectedly, he slipped backwards, landing on his butt. Luckily, she did not land straddling him, which would have been alternately erotic and hilarious, but she did go headfirst into his crotch. The towel, as well as Weiss’ reflexes bringing up her hands in time to keep her from going skull-first into Flynt’s genitals, kept anything vital from being damaged, but Weiss’ face ended up separated from a hard penis only by a towel. She turned bright red as she could feel its warmth against her right cheek.

And because the Brother Gods could be rather cruel (to say nothing of the author), that was the moment the door to the training grounds opened, admitting Winter Schnee. She stopped and her mouth fell open in complete shock.

From the elder Schnee sister’s perspective, Flynt was lying completely naked on his back, his head thrown back in ecstasy rather than in pain. Both arms had ended up splayed open, along with his legs. Weiss, also completely naked with her rather shapely behind in the air, was bent over his crotch, her long braid hiding what remained of the towel that was still valiantly separating Flynt’s erection from Weiss’ face. To Winter, then, it looked very much like she had come upon her sister giving the leader of Team FNKI a blowjob in the shower. 

Winter Schnee was actually quite quick-witted; one did not become a Colonel in the Atlesian military otherwise. While Winter was aware that her little sister was no longer a virgin, she was quite surprised, to give the understatement of Season 7, that Weiss was apparently willing to pretty much go down on anyone at the slightest provocation. And while Winter’s logical brain processed the scene in front of her (“This is quite odd; there must be an explanation besides my beautiful little sister being a slut, because Weiss is not like that.”), her lizard brain shoved logic aside and leapt into the driver’s seat (“THAT BASTARD SEDUCED MY BEAUTIFUL LITTLE SISTER; I MUST KILL HIM AND DECORATE MY BLADE WITH HIS BALLS!”). Her right hand flashed to the saber at her side. 

Weiss, not sure if her life, Flynt’s, both, or all of Remnant’s was in danger, rolled to one side and came up on her knees. “Winter! No! It was an accident, I slipped!” To her horror, she realized Flynt’s towel was in her hands. Now it was Flynt Coal who had nothing left to hide. And he was still hard, though that situation was changing rapidly.

Winter’s eyes blazed as if she’d already become the Winter Maiden, and took one murderous step forward, saber raised. Seeing her sister was no longer listening to reason, Weiss concentrated. A white snowflake glyph irised into place, blocking Winter. “Fly, you fool!” she yelled at Flynt, who needed no further encouragement. He fled the shower and didn’t even bother stopping by his locker to get dressed, knowing that Winter would be skewering him before he even got on his pants. 

The door to the hallway opened, admitting a laughing Nora Valkyrie and Neon Katt. Flynt crashed into both of them, taking them down. “Flynt!” Neon exclaimed. “What the hell? Why are you naked?” Nora’s eyes instantly went crotchward. From her angle, Neon could see an enraged Winter Schnee with sword raised, blocked by a very familiar glyph she was trying to carve through. She put two and two together and came up with five. Her tail went straight with anger. “Nora,” she hissed, “move away from him.”

“Why?” Nora asked, rather foolishly.

“So I can _kill him.”_

Flynt looked up at Nora. “Remember me,” he said sadly, as his partner grabbed her nunchaku.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We can be reasonably assured that at some point, Weiss and Flynt were able to calm down Winter and Neon before either committed murder. Then again, maybe not, as FNKI hasn't been seen since the early part of Season 7. 
> 
> The mention that Jaune and Weiss were/are lovers is a reference to my "One Night in Atlas" stories; "Love Hurts" more or less takes place in the same timeline. More or less. ("One NIght in Atlas" is meant to be canon-compliant; "Love Hurts" isn't, since Adam was talked out of killing Blake by Yang's booty and Salem ended up showering in front of Team RWBY.) Weiss' line of having nothing to hide is actually a quote from none other than Winston Churchill. FDR accidentally came upon Churchill leaving the bathroom naked during a wartime visit to the White House. Churchill just smiled and remarked, "As you can see, Mr. President, the United Kingdom has nothing to hide from the United States!" Can't get anything past Winnie. 
> 
> And because why not--I'm happy to take requests for chapters! This one was a challenge to write, and I enjoyed doing so. Please don't request anything that would be nonconsensual; the only violence I'll do is comedic.


	14. Dream Lover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman Torchwick isn't feeling so great. His Dust robbery got foiled, his gang and the White Fang got beat up, and he's losing to a bunch of Beacon students. 
> 
> Fortunately, there's someone there to comfort him. A whole lot of someones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short chapter. Why do I write so much? To be honest, got a lot of stress in my life, and I've found writing is the best way to keep it manageable. Plus I know I'm making people laugh, and that's a good thing in any language.

Roman Torchwick lay on the bed, clad only in red boxers and his bowler hat; a cigar smoldered in his right hand while he read the day’s news on his Scroll in his left. He scowled at the top news item: _Torchwick Gang Robbery Foiled By Beacon Students; Possible White Fang Involvement?_

The door to his bedroom opened. He looked up and nearly dropped his cigar. Cinder Fall was walking towards him. The fact that Cinder was in his room, uninvited, was bad enough. The fact that she was stark naked was something else entirely. To say that Cinder’s nude form was magnificent was to misuse the term: she was stunning, from the aptly-termed fall of raven hair over her left eye, to the face that promised equal parts pain and pleasure from the pouting lips, to the beautiful, somewhat large breasts, the shaved pubic mound, and those long, long perfect legs. She didn’t walk towards Roman; she strode. 

“What are you doing here?” Roman demanded, but Cinder brought a finger to her lips. She got onto the bed, spread herself open for him to see, then bent over, took hold of his boxers, and slid them off slowly. Roman’s only reaction was to stub out his cigar and put down his Scroll. Cinder kissed her way up his legs, took hold of his penis, and licked her lips before bestowing a kiss on the head.

“Nice try, Neo,” Roman smiled. “Cinder” instantly stopped, rose to her knees and jammed her fists on her hips. His smile got bigger at the questioning look on her face. “I’m pretty sure Cinder Fall doesn’t go down on people she just met…despite how she dresses.”

“Cinder” sighed, and soundlessly, her figure changed with pinkish, glasslike sparkles. Now it was Yang Xiao Long who knelt before Roman, a sardonic smile on her face. She tossed the blonde hair on her head, ran her fingers through the blond hair between her legs, and bent over again. This time, she took Roman’s member and squeezed it between her breasts. Again, Roman’s only response was to sigh. He remained flaccid.

“Yang” stared daggers at him, then transformed again, this time to the equally blond, but older and more well-endowed Glynda Goodwitch. This time, she ground her groin against his, gently but insistently. She pushed her breasts up for Roman’s inspection. He yawned, and still was flaccid.

“Glynda” growled in frustration and folded her arms over her breasts. Then she snapped her fingers with an idea, smiled slyly, and transformed again. Now it was Sienna Khan who was on her knees before Roman, her dark skin crisscrossed with stripes, her ears laid back as she moved forward, straddling the thief’s hips, seizing hold of him with clawed fingers. Roman shook his head, and “Sienna” let go. She stared at him, then her fingers flashed in sign: _What’s wrong with you?_

Roman laughed softly, reached up, and booped “Sienna’s” nose. “Nothing’s wrong, Neo. Let’s play a little game. Transform into someone else for a second, and kiss me.” He held up a hand. “Don’t you even _think_ about changing into Ruby Rose. That’s just gross.”

“Sienna” nodded, thought for a moment, and then sparkled into the form of Blake Belladonna. She leaned forward, rubbed her breasts against his chest, and flicked her pink tongue against his lips before she kissed him. Roman returned the kiss, running his hands through the black hair and across the Faunus ears, then pulled away. “Now see what you’ve done to me, down there.” He pointed at his groin. “Blake” once more nodded, and put a warm hand on him. He was not hard at all.

“Now transform back into yourself, Neo, and kiss me again.” “Blake” shrugged, and in a moment, Neo Politan’s true appearance was in front of him. As instructed, she kissed him. Roman seized her pink and brown hair and plunged his tongue between her lips. They remained like that for awhile, enjoying the kiss, then Roman again pulled back. “ _Now_ reach down.”

Neo did, and her pink and brown eyes grew wide. Roman was as hard as a rock, his erection throbbing insistently in her hand, eager and ready. She looked at him in shock. He grinned up at her. “Why am I hard now and not when you were all those people? Because I don’t love them, Neo.”

Her lower lip trembled, and she hugged him fiercely, tears running down her face. He patted her back as she sniffled into his shoulder. “Oh, is the party over now?” he whispered in her ear.

Neo rose back up to her knees and shuffled downwards. _Nope,_ she signed. She guided Roman into her; she was already wet and as ready as he was. Then she leaned forward as he sank completely into her. He played with her small breasts as she rocked against him, then returned her eager kisses as he began thrusting into her.

Neo and Roman had been lovers for awhile, and they easily fell into the rhythm of those who have loved each other many times. Sometimes Roman thought they should change things up a bit, but inevitably, Neo ended up on top, her small frame above him…and that was all right. She began to gasp and writhe, her eyes closing in sheer bliss as he leaned forward—still wearing his hat—and began to lick at the pebblelike nipples. Their breathing quickened, and Neo’s eyes opened. She shakily and frantically signed to him _I’m going to come_ , then did. He felt her inner walls pulsating around him as her pushing against him slowed to a languid crawl. She sighed in contentment and stopped.

Roman was content himself, for the moment, just to be in her. But after a minute or so she yawned, and he cleared his throat. “Forgetting someone?” Neo smiled slyly and began grinding against him again. He was already fairly close, and soon he was pounding into her, his hands squeezing her rear. “Ah, Neo!” he shouted. “Neo!”

She felt him tense up in her, and Roman groaned as he came…except, as he opened his eyes, he was no longer coming into Neo Politan, but Kali Belladonna. It was too late then, and Roman could only glare at her as he ejaculated, until finally, he slowed and stopped. She shifted back to her normal form, gently took him out, licked a little bit of semen off her fingers, and dropped into the bed next to him. “Not funny,” he told her.

_Says you,_ she signed back. She snuggled against him, draping a leg over his. 

“Next time I’ll have you be Willow Schnee,” he said, poking her nose. Neo made a nauseated face, then her fingers flew in sign. He waited until she was done, translated it in his head, and rolled his eyes. “No, Neo, I think dying your pubic hair pink is dumb. Not everything on your body has to be pink and brown, you know.”

“Hmpf,” she fumed. But she didn’t leave his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you could get over her predilection towards violent murder, Neo would be the best girlfriend ever.


	15. Every Rose Has Its Thorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby finally has a little bit of time to herself, and she's going to use it. It's been awhile since she's been with Oscar Pine, and there's no time to waste.
> 
> But in the hasty shedding of threads and making of love, Ruby and Oscar have forgotten something...rather important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done in response to CJ Lowder's challenge. This ended up being a lot longer than the other chapters, and also ended up as a sort of sequel to the Ruby/Oscar chapters of "One Night in Atlas." Ah well. Because it was turning into a novella (and I need to sleep sometime), I ended up going into narrative mode towards the end.

Oscar Pine sat in bed…bored out of his mind. While Team RWBY and JNR did Huntsman and Huntress jobs around Atlas, he basically was just sitting around. True, he was training every day, learning how to use Ozpin’s cane, and his own Aura. But the rest of the time, he was just sort of…there. While Oscar was not about to request to go out on the next Grimm-hunting mission, and he wasn’t _quite_ bored enough to join Jaune on crossing guard duties, he was still finding Atlas somewhat tedious. 

There was a soft rapping on his door. “Come in,” he said absently, watching a video on his Scroll. He really didn’t know who this Huntsman Park Meier was that was playing scary games, but at least he was entertaining.

To Oscar’s mild surprise, it was Ruby Rose. He put down the Scroll and smiled. “Hi, Ruby, I was—“

“No time to talk!” Ruby exclaimed. 

Oscar’s heart began to race and he jumped up from the bed, grabbing for Ozpin’s cane. “Grimm attack?”

Ruby paused, then grinned slyly. “No,” she said. “ _Me_ attack!” She threw off her cape, then went to work on her corset strings, at the same time pulling off her belt. “C’mon, Oscar, hurry! We’ve got about thirty minutes to do this before the rest of my team notices that I’m not showering at the gym!”

Oscar was still behind the curve, though granted, Ruby wasn’t exactly being the best at communication. “To do what?”

“To have sex! Bang! Make love! Screw!” She gave him a sultry look, though Ruby was not all that great at sultry looks. “I want you, Oscar Pine. I want you _now.”_

Oscar pondered this situation for a minute. Two weeks before, he and Ruby had lost their virginities to each other. It had been a typical first time—mistakes were made, pain was suffered, but eventually, fun was had. It had been the high point of Oscar’s life so far, but after days without seeing Ruby other than a tired greeting in the dorm hallway, he’d wondered if maybe it had been Ruby being envious of everyone else hooking up, and he had just been convienent, despite what she had told him. That theory was now shot to pieces, however. Ruby pulled off her boots and tossed them aside, then threw aside her gloves, then shimmied out of her dress. “Oscar!” she hissed impatiently. “Hurry up!”

Oscar grinned foolishly. Now he knew what the older men in the village near his farm had meant when they said they were going to _get some._ “Yes, ma’am!” He only had his shirt and pants on, so that made it much easier than Ruby getting out of her battle gear. The pants he dropped quickly, the shirt was over his head, and the memories of the last time with Ruby Rose made it so he was already getting hard. Ruby did a double take at that. “Oh, hot damn,” she breathed. 

While Oscar stood there admiring the view, Ruby got the rest of her clothes off, leaving an untidy pile on the floor. She stood there nude, but Oscar was still wearing his boxers, which now had a very nice tent in them. “Lose those,” Ruby demanded.

“I thought you might want to take them off,” he said with an angelic smile that melted Ruby’s heart.

Or would have, if she hadn’t been overwhelmed with lust. She practically skipped to him and locked him in a fierce kiss. There was none of the hesitant kissing of two virgins unsure of what they were doing this time; Ruby’s tongue was like a King Taijitu loose in Oscar’s mouth. Her hands grabbed the waistband, and, after a second’s thought that ripping them off might cause her lover permanent damage, eased them off. Oscar kicked them behind him. She felt his hardness against her stomach, and pulled away from his lips. Her arms were around his neck. “Here we are,” she whispered. “Oh, this is nice.”

“I was beginning to think…maybe you didn’t want to,” Oscar told her.

“You kidding? I got so horny that Weiss started looking good. You?” she asked.

“Phew,” Oscar breathed, “the crack of dawn wasn’t going to be safe.”

“Shall we?” Ruby asked.

Oscar did not reply. He pulled back from her and lay down on the bed. His erection stood straight up, rock hard and insistent. Ruby was seized with the insane desire to put it in her mouth, but while she had heard Yang talk about how boys loved that (either to embarrass Weiss or after a drink or two under her belt), Ruby didn’t think she was quite ready for that. Besides, there was not enough time for more than the main event. At her hesitation, Oscar said, “I thought you might want to be on top this time.”

“Ooh! Heck yeah!” Ruby climbed on the bed, then paused. “Actually, Oscar…maybe you better be on top until we’re more used to doing this. If I lost control of my Semblance while I was on top, that could be…bad.”

The image of a weiner being fed through a meatgrinder came to mind, and Oscar quickly agreed. Ruby snuggled down onto the bed while Oscar got between her legs. He gulped. While there were those who would say that Ruby Rose was not quite as attractive as the other members of Team RWBY, Oscar would beg to differ. He marveled at her body, and his penis gave a twitch at the thought of what would happen next.

“What are you waiting for?” Ruby said breathily. She used her fingers to open herself up, to show that she was ready. Oscar’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. Ruby might be an amateur when it came to sex, but even amateurs scored touchdowns. 

“All…all right…” Oscar went as gently as he could, trying to fight down the urge to slam himself into her. He groaned as he felt himself enveloped by Ruby, and they both gasped as he went in all the way, his pubic hair ticklish against her shaved mons. “You okay?” he said.

Ruby had felt a little pain—it was only her second time—but nowhere near the pain of losing her virginity. “I’m okay,” she whispered. He tried a tentative thrust, positioning himself, readjusting so he was bearing his weight on his elbows rather than on her. Then another, one that Ruby met. A third, then a fourth, and then they found the rhythm. Ruby tucked her legs behind him, her feet on the small of his back, her arms on his shoulders. 

The room went silent, save for increasingly heavy breathing and the sound of skin on skin. While they were far from experienced lovers, this time was with confidence: while they were fascinated by each other’s bodies and both tried to experience each other’s reactions, Ruby and Oscar knew each other now. 

She drew him down, back to her lips. He could hear little moans escaping her, feel her heart pounding through her small breast, the hardened nipples poking into his chest. She broke off the kiss to gasp for air. “Oscar,” she panted. “Oh, Oscar!” Her eyes rolled back and fluttered closed; he was a little disappointed in that, because he wanted to look into those silvery orbs when she came. Then again, he thought absently, if her silver eyes went off, that would also be bad.

“Ugghhh…” She gritted her teeth, then her eyes did fly open, and Oscar was wondering if his life was about to end—though it would be one hell of a way to go. She muffled herself by kissing him, and her scream vibrated through his mouth as her fingers raked down his back. Her screams died away to incoherent groans as her orgasm shook her body. 

Ruby barely had time to process that when she noticed that Oscar was no longer being gentle with her. He was suddenly slamming into her with abandon, his eyes squeezed shut, and then with a single groan of “Ruby!” he came deep within her. Ruby hugged him tight, riding out _his_ orgasm, loving the odd feeling of being filled. He collapsed against her, and both struggled to get their breath. 

“Whew,” she said. 

“That was…that was…amazing,” he struggled out. He pulled out of her and rolled onto the bed. “I was not expecting that tonight, Ruby.”

“I know,” she said, happily snuggling against him. “Gods, I love doing that! No wonder my sister and Blake can’t keep their hands off each other.”

“It’s a lot more fun than doing it by yourself.”

“Roger that.” Ruby felt sleep tugging at her eyes, but knew she couldn’t stay. Instead, she kissed Oscar’s cheek. He hugged her close, then noticed something on her arm—or rather something that was not there. “Ruby? Did you get your contraceptive shot?”

“Hmm? Nah. Those things are good for a month.”

“Oh. Because I was reading that they were only good for a week—“ He sat up straight. “Oh, shit.” He frantically grabbed for his Scroll, which had ended up on the floor. Ruby looked at him quizzically as he got the device, opened it, and did a quick search. “Oh shit,” he repeated.

“What?” He showed her the Scroll. Her hands went to her mouth. “Oh shit.”

Yang Xiao Long was engaged in one of her favorite pastimes: annoying Blake Belladonna. She was propped up in her bunk, reading _Ninjas of Love V: One Night in Edo._ “’I did not expect that,’ the evil head of the kunoichi clan said. ‘Gambling with the life of your lover? What kind of game?’” Yang turned the page. “’A sexual game,’ Yoshiro the samurai said. ‘We will make love. And the first one to orgasm loses.’” Yang laughed. “Oh my gods. Who writes this crap?”

Blake, who sat in the bunk below, arms folded across her chest, glared up at her partner. “Give me back my book, Yang!”

“Later! I’m getting to the good…” Yang turned another page. “Holy schneet! I didn’t know this thing had pictures!” Weiss Schnee looked up involuntarily from her book, which was an instruction manual on piloting Atlesian airships. Luckily, the door opened before Yang could catch her showing interest in Blake’s smut, admitting one Ruby Rose. Weiss leaned out from the bunk. “Oh, hello. Was there a line at the gym showers?” She brought the book up as her cheeks colored from the memory of being accidentally face-to-penis with Flynt Coal. Team RWBY didn’t know about that, and if Weiss had her way, she was taking that secret to the grave.

“Yang?” Ruby’s voice was very small, and the three other members of RWBY looked at her in concern.

Yang immediately swung out of the bunk. “Rubes? What’s wrong?”

“Um…well…”

Her older sister saw that Ruby’s clothes were disheveled, as if they had been put on in a hurry, and noticed there was a stray rose petal or two stuck to her cape. “Ruby,” Yang said, worried, “what’s wrong? What’s happened?”

“Okay…you have to promise not to be mad, okay?” Ruby could not look her sister in the eyes.

Those same lilac eyes narrowed dangerously. “No.”

Ruby pretended she hadn’t heard that. “All right. So…um…I’m a grown woman and all, right? I’m eighteen, so I can make my own decisions as a grown, independent woman, right?”

Now Weiss was out of her bunk, eyebrows beetled together in confusion. Blake stayed in her bunk and covered her eyes; she knew _exactly_ what Ruby was talking about. It sounded like she had when she had admitted to her parents that she had lost her virginity to Adam Taurus. And she had a very bad feeling that Yang was going to react much as Ghira Belladonna had. 

Yang was starting to figure it out as well, but she didn’t want to admit it. Ruby was, in Yang’s mind, still ten years old. Maybe twelve. She was _not_ out there doing something with someone that she shouldn’t be. She was _not._ “Ruby, spit it out.”

“You have to promise me you won’t be mad first!”

“Ruby, tell me!” Yang’s fists clenched.

It was Weiss who answered the question. “Oh gods,” she said in a whisper, “you slept with someone, didn’t you?”

Ruby smiled weakly. “Um…yep.”

Yang said nothing, very loudly. Her sister took a step back as the elder sister’s blond hair started to glow. “Who?” Yang snarled.

“Oscar…?” Ruby said, making it almost a question, as if she herself didn’t know who it was.

Blake rolled out of the bunk and grabbed Gambol Shroud. Weiss got out of the way. “Ruby,” Yang said in a voice from the grave, “get out of the way.”

“Yang, wait,” Weiss tried to say, but Yang was beyond listening. Her hair started to float, glowing like the sun dragon she was named for. Ruby braced herself against the door, knowing that her sister was about to become an unstoppable force of nature in about two seconds.

Blake sighed, stretched out Gambol Shroud’s cord, and threw it around Yang’s chest. Yang screamed like an enraged Grimm. “Let go of me, Blake!” she shouted. “Oscar dies! I’m going to murder him! Ozpin’s going to find someone else to reincarnate with, because when I’m done with the little fucker, _Salem_ won’t be able to put him back together!” She writhed, trying to get loose, but Blake dug in her heels, and wrapped the cord around her arms. 

“Stop it,” the Faunus girl said. “I mean it, Yang. _Stop._ ”

“She’s my sister! He’s banging my little sister!” Yang yelled.

“And he has a right to do so, if he’s the one Ruby chose!” Blake looked beyond Yang to her team leader. “It was consensual, right?”

“Yes! Yes!” Ruby nodded frantically. “I seduced him! Like, almost two weeks ago!”

Blake's eyebrows went up. " _You_ seduced _him?_ Whoa."

“That night…” Yang stared at her sister, red eyes blazing. “You told me you borrowed Oscar’s shower because yours was broken, and you forgot your towel! But it was okay because Oscar had gone down to the rec room while you did your thing!” She took a step forward, dragging Blake with her. “You…that night…you…”

“Oh, for…” Weiss stomped her foot to get the blonde brawler’s attention. “You mean you _fell_ for that, Yang? _I_ was wearing more clothes than Ruby, and all I had on was a bathrobe!”

“That’s different! You’re fucking Jaune!”

Weiss’ temper blew. She strode forward and put herself between Yang and Ruby. “That is _enough,_ Yang Xiao Long! I was not _fucking_ Jaune Arc, we were making love. There is a difference. You know that.” She pointed at Ruby. “I’m sleeping with Jaune, on occasion. You and Blake are thumping the mattress every night you think Ruby and I are asleep. Ren and Nora have been screwing since Beacon. You expect Ruby to never find a lover of her own?” She met Yang’s glare with her own, blue on red. “ _Do_ you?”

Yang’s eyes faded from red to their normal color. “No….”

“Oscar is a good, fine young man. And the only one about her age.” The fact that Weiss was only two years older than Ruby didn’t cross her mind; she felt older. “And the only male we associate with that isn’t taken. And even then, I doubt Ruby chose him because he was convienent. Or that he chose her because she was willing.” She looked back at her battle partner. “True?”

“Yeah…” Ruby chewed her lip. “But, um…there’s something else. Tonight, yeah, we, er, made love, and it was, um, awesome. But you see, I’ve been careful. You know, pretty sure Oscar doesn’t have any rubbers, I mean, condoms, so I got one of those contraceptive shots two weeks ago. Before our first time.”

Yang was starting to come to terms with the fact that her little sister was not so little anymore. “At least you’re being smart,” she said.

“Well…aheh…I thought they lasted for a whole month.”

Weiss shook her head. “No, they’re only good for a week.” She rolled up a sleeve; there was a tiny red mark there. “I’ve been renewing mine, just in case.”

Blake chuckled. “One thing Yang and I don’t have to worry about, I guess.” Then the realization of what Ruby was trying to say hit her. “Oh shit.”

It hit Weiss at the same time. “Oh shit.”

Ruby nodded. “Yeah…well…we sort of forgot in the heat of the, um, moment.”

Weiss slowly turned to face her. “You mean…you and Oscar…had unprotected sex tonight.”

Ruby closed her eyes as the axe fell. “Yep.”

Blake silently untangled Gambol Shroud from Yang. Weiss quietly stepped out of the way. “Kill him,” they both said. 

_Oscar._

Oscar, who was pacing his room with worry, suddenly stopped, eyes wide at the voice of Ozpin in his head. “Sir? It’s been so long—“

_You need to run. Now._

“Salem?” Oscar asked, shaking.

_Worse. Yang Xiao Long._

That night, Oscar managed to hide from Yang. He barely escaped, running down the stairwell just as Yang kicked down his door. He ran headlong into Penny Polendina, who had sensed a massive power buildup at Atlas Academy and came to investigate. Penny, who also sensed that Oscar might die this night, and weighing his future importance in the fight against Salem, quickly flew him down to Mantle, where he spent the night with Pietro. 

Weiss, for her part, was a good battle partner. She discreetly asked Nora, after an explanation and exchange of lien, to go buy a home pregnancy kit. Atlesian technology was such that it could detect pregnancy within 24 hours of impregnation (they could develop technology like this, but not fix the damn hole in Mantle’s north wall). Shakily, Ruby took the test the next day. 

Yang, her rage spent and dejected, wondered how they were going to tell Taiyang he was a grandfather.

Weiss, despite herself, was wondering what Ruby’s and Oscar’s children would look like, and was nearly beside herself thinking about just how cute the baby would be.

Blake buried her nose in _Ninjas of Love V_ and said nothing, because she had done the math and knew that it was unlikely Ruby was pregnant, measuring from her team leader’s last period. She knew when Ruby’s periods were because hers were about the same time; Team RWBY had lined up theirs months ago, as often happened among women in that sort of situation. (Nora’s had as well. Ren, Jaune and Oscar were _also_ aware of those days, and were sure to be kind, cheerful, and far away when they happened.) But her math could be off, and the rhythm method was far from guaranteed.

Nora waited with Ren, already thinking of names for the new child, all of which involved weaponry; she had settled on Roquette Pine or Martel Rose. 

Winter was in her office with Oscar and Jaune, waiting for the all clear, wondering if Ruby could still fight when pregnant. And making double sure that _her_ shot was up to date, since she’d finally managed to pry Qrow away from Cards Against Grimm nights with Clover. 

Salem watched from her scrying glass, wine glass in one hand, grumbling that she was getting damned tired of silver-eyed warriors being hatched, and tempted to get seriously drunk at the idea of Ozpin indirectly having a child with someone besides her. She tossed aside the glass and reached for the bottle when she realized that it also meant Ozpin was sort of having sex with Summer Rose’s daughter, and that _really_ cheesed her off. Salem turned up the bottle as she thought about how she was going to drop Atlas on that little bastard Oscar’s head.

Finally, Ruby came out of the bathroom. Team RWBY looked up as one. Ruby sighed and held up the test. It showed negative. "I'm not preggers," she sighed.

“That’s good,” Blake said.

“Yes,” Weiss agreed, a little sadly—true, now was a bad time for Ruby to be getting with child, but her children would be so _cute…_

“I still want to kill him,” Yang said, as if Ruby was some sort of innocent bystander in all of this.

Ruby set down the test, went over, and hugged her sister. “C’mon,” she said. “Would being Aunt Yang be all that bad?”

Yang was silent for a moment, then reached up and touched her sister’s hand with her real one. “Someday, Ruby. Someday it will be okay. It will be more than okay. Even with Oscar.”

“Yeah. When all of this is over. Someday,” Ruby smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. Had to end it on a high note. I think Ruby and Oscar wouldn't mind settling down after all of this, and giving Tai a grandson or granddaughter. And Yang would make a good aunt. 
> 
> Always remember, people: no glove (or Atlesian contraceptive shot), no love. Practice safe sex in your fanfics. And elsewhere, too. 
> 
> And knowing is half the battle.


	16. Danse Macabre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaune Arc and Pyrrha Nikos meet in the old ruins of the Forever Fall Forest for a romantic tryst. But there's a catch, because this isn't quite the Jaune and Pyrrha that we're used to...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done at the request of francaisfillehiccstrid. A little bit of dark fantasy, with a triple twist ending. Take that, M. Night Shalayaman!

Jaune Arc moved through the Forever Fall Forest like a shadow. He sniffed the air, then flitted from tree to tree, doubling back on his own tracks, following a meandering, random course until he was sure that no one had followed him. Once he was sure that he was alone— _almost alone,_ he corrected himself—he sped towards the old ruins at the edge of the forest. She would be waiting there.

And she was. He paused at the edge of the forest, drinking in the sight of Pyrrha Nikos. She waited patiently, atop the highest part of the old ruins, her long red ponytail stirring in the wind, covered in a black trenchcoat.

Jaune padded into the clearing. She spotted him instantly in the light of the shattered moon. “Jaune,” she called out happily, and leapt down to the edge of the ruins. 

He stopped, concentrated, and shifted back to his human form, for Jaune Arc was a werewolf. He had made the journey on four paws. As he changed, his yellowish fur disappeared, except for his hair and a thin bit on his chest, and stood there dressed only in a pair of briefs decorated with the Pumpkin Pete logo. “We’re alone,” he said to her. “I made sure nobody followed.”

“Ren and Nora?” she asked. She referred to the kuei-jin and valkyrie that were their unlikely friends. 

“They know, but they won’t tell.”

“And the White Knight?”

Jaune shivered a little bit at that. Weiss Schnee, the infamous White Knight, hunted supernaturals. “She’s nowhere near here. She’s off with the Red Scythe, in Atlas. At least according to what Blake the Werecat told me.” Pyrrha looked unsure, so he put a hand on her shoulder. It was cold, but not too cold. “We can trust Blake, Pyr.”

“But can we trust her partner? The Sun Dragon is fatal to my kind.”

Jaune smiled. “She approves of our pairing.”

“Well…all right, then.” She looked at the position of the moon. “We don’t have that long.”

His smile widened. “Then what are we waiting for?”

“What indeed?” Pyrrha smiled at him, exposing glittering fangs. She dropped the trenchcoat behind her. Jaune’s breath caught in his throat. She wore only two straps that barely covered her ample breasts, against which erect nipples already strained; the straps joined into high-cut panties that barely covered anything. Her lower legs and feet were encased in black leather boots. He gave a low whistle. “The legendary Vampyrrha,” he said softly.

“The costume is a bit over the top, but it does have its uses,” she said.

“Such as?”

“Distracting male opponents, and…” Pyrrha reached up, grabbed the high white collar that joined the straps at her throat, and peeled off the straps, freeing her breasts. Her pale skin shone in the moonlight. “…ease of removal.”

Jaune growled hungrily. His penis stirred and began to press against the briefs. Their romance was forbidden by their clans, hated by civilized men, a joining unknown in the Dark World of Remnant. But he loved her, and she loved him. Star-crossed they may be, but they wanted each other, and no power alive or undead would stop them.

“Allow me,” Pyrrha said, and suddenly splayed long fingernails. She reached down and sliced off his briefs, exposing the hard, enormous member. “Oh my,” she breathed, “is that for me?”

“It’s all for you, my love.” He splayed his own claws, and despite her squeak of surprise, ripped away what remained of her clothing. His lustful growl filled the air as he smelled her arousal. Pyrrha stepped closer and kissed him deeply. “How do you want me?” she whispered.

Jaune chuckled, which sounded more like the huffing of a bear. “You know how I want you.”

“Oh no,” Pyrrha said with mock fear, “I don’t know if I can handle that. Please, Jaune, don’t ravage me so!”

Jaune did not answer. He grabbed either side of her narrow waist, carried her towards an ancient stone table in the center of the ruins, and pushed her down atop it. She opened her thighs. Jaune needed no invitation. With a snarl, he positioned himself at her opening and pushed in, filling her completely. She laughed. “So hungry!”

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to be with you,” Jaune responded. “But now I can wait no longer.”

“Then do not hesitate, lover,” Pyrrha answered him huskily. “Take your prize.”

“Leave the boots on,” he rasped, and began thrusting into her for all he was worth. Pyrrha tucked her feet behind his and dug in with the heels. Jaune gave a huffing laugh at that, but didn’t stop. With every thrust, he would growl, and Pyrrha welcomed each one. Her smile began to fade, however, and her eyes became glassy with lust. Her laughs ended, replaced first by gasps, then by moans. Her arms came up behind him and her nails drew long scores of red tracks across his back, which healed almost immediately. “Do it,” she groaned. “Do it for me, Jaune.”

He stopped for a moment. “Are you sure? I—I don’t want to hurt you, Pyrrha.”

“I am undead, Jaune. You can’t hurt me.” She looked away, and a bloody tear fell from one eye. “Not physically.”

Jaune licked the tear away, tasting its saltiness. “I would never hurt you in any fashion, Pyrrha. I love you.”

She touched his face tenderly. “Please, Jaune. For me.”

He nodded, and began pushing into her again—slowly, but then speeding up again. His heavy breathing took on a more animalistic tone, and as Pyrrha watched, he began to bulk up. The thin sheen of body hair sprouted more fully until it became a coat of blonde fur. His face became more bestial, though not quite entirely wolflike, and his arms and legs became huge. He became bigger inside as well, but although it hurt a little, Pyrrha said nothing, reveling in the feel of it. Now his breathing were snarls, and his big hands, fingers ending in claws, grabbed her rear and lifted her off the table, as he slammed into her with his enhanced strength. The claws drew blood, but Pyrrha barely noticed. Her back arched and her moans shook the ruins. Jaune dragged a long tongue across her breasts. “Rrarrrghhh…” he rumbled. “Arrrllmost…srrrooo….clrrrose…”

“Wait for me!” she screamed. “Wait for me, my love!” She could feel him tense up, and with her own supernatural strength, gripped his broad shoulders, pulled herself off the table until she was clinging to him with her boots and hands as he continued to thrust into her. Her mouth opened wide, fangs descending to their full length, and she plunged them deep into his neck, her eyes rolling backwards into her head.

Jaune came with a long howl, as he felt not only her feeding from him, but her own orgasm grip him hard. She pulled her fangs free, blood dripping from them, and added her own animalistic yell to his, as the forbidden lovers shouted their love at the watching moon. Animals fled at the sound, birds scattered, even Grimm turned and ran. 

At last, they were finished. He still held her, even as he softened, even as she licked the wound shut on his neck. “I love you,” he repeated.

She kissed him. “I love you, I love you,” she answered. “Nothing will ever part us, Jaune Arc. Nothing. Not even the gods themselves shall end our love!”

“Perhaps not the gods,” said a new voice, “but I shall, you abominations!”

Pyrrha and Jaune turned at the voice. From the forest shone a figure all in white, her silver hair falling to one side of a scarred but beautiful face. Pyrrha dropped to her feet and stood in front of Jaune, not caring about her nudity. “You have no place here, White Knight!”

“Oh, but I do!” Weiss Schnee insisted, drawing her magical Myrtenaster. “Your love is beautiful, but it must be destroyed!” She stepped forward, bringing the sword up in a salute. Pyrrha nodded and dropped into a fighting stance, nails splayed, fangs bared. “If I cannot have Jaune Arc,” Weiss shouted, “no one can!”

But before the ladies could join in mortal combat, Jaune suddenly leapt between them. “No!” he exclaimed. “By the gods, you will not fight over me!”

“I must,” Pyrrha replied, “because I love you.”

“But I love him as well!” Weiss cried. 

“And I love you both!” Jaune said. He put his arms out to stop them. “Please! I love you both!”

Weiss shook her head. “No, Jaune. You must choose the living—“ she pointed to herself “—or the dead.” She pointed her sword at Pyrrha.

“I refuse to make that choice.” Jaune put up his hands. “I will love you both, or I will love neither.”

Pyrrha closed her eyes. There was but one way to defuse this, one way to keep blood from being spilled this night. She stepped forward, her nails returning to normal, her fangs retracting. “Weiss…” she said, and held out her hand. “Join us.”

Weiss’ blue eyes widened. “But…I cannot…it’s forbidden…”

“Jaune’s love and mine is forbidden,” Pyrrha told her. “And yet, we consummate it often. There is room for one more, Weiss.”

“Yes,” Jaune said calmly, and held out his hand. “Please, Weiss. Join us. There is no reason to fight.”

“But…I…I…” Myrtenaster fell from her fingers as the lust exploded in her chest. As if ensorcelled—and perhaps she was—she stepped forward, already unstrapping the armor from her torso. Cold vampiric fingers and warm werewolf ones helped her undress, until her own pale, nude skin shone in the light. Weiss’ chest heaved with desire, and she groaned as Pyrrha’s fangs tickled her neck, as Jaune’s hands touched her.

“I hope you like it,” Blake Belladonna said. She was blushing because it was the first erotic fanfiction she had written—at least the first she had written that she allowed anyone to see. It had been at Pyrrha Nikos’ request, and it was Pyrrha who read it. “I…um…I added Weiss at the end. I could easily change it to anyone else, but since Weiss is the supernatural hunter in this…”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Pyrrha said, blushing even more furiously than Blake was. “I like the fact that Jau—ah, Jaunewolf has divided loyalties. He loves me—I mean, Vampyrrha, but he also desires Weiss. He will have to choose between us, and naturally, because our love will tear apart the fragile truce between werewolves and vampires, it will be Vampyrrha that will have to sadly walk away.” She snapped her fingers with an idea. “Oh! Even better! Vampyrrha will sacrifice herself to save Weiss and Jaune!”

“I don’t know,” Blake mused. “Heroic sacrifice is a staple in these sort of stories, but when I post this up on Archive, I don’t think my fans will like that. They get really pissed when a favorite character is killed off.”

“Even when it becomes central to the main plot and helps build up the other characters?”

“Yeah, even then.” Blake tapped her fingers on her keyboard in thought. “We could kill Jaunewolf.”

“No!” Pyrrha exclaimed. Blake jumped in surprise. “No,” she repeated, more calmly. 

“Okay, okay. How about Weiss sacrificing herself for the couple?”

Pyrrha thought about that. “That could work, I suppose, though I still like the idea of Vampyrrha’s noble sacrifice.” She shrugged. “We’ll think about it.” She leaned over and hugged Blake. “I know this is embarrassing for you, writing these steamy love scenes, but thank you, Blake. You are a wonderful writer.”

“Yeah, well…I’ve had some experience.” She patted the three volumes of _Ninjas of Love._ “You’re not bothered by the sex?”

Pyrrha turned red again, but shook her head. “Oh, no, Blake. They’re quite tasteful and lovely.” She held up the pages. “May I keep these? I swear I won’t show them to anyone.”

“Sure. That’s why I printed them out.”

Pyrrha tapped the pages and smiled. “I can’t wait for the next installment. Well…see you later.”

“Have a good one, Pyrrha.” The redhead left Team RWBY’s dorm room, and Blake watched the door close. She waited until she heard Team JNPR’s door close as well, then opened a new window on the computer and resumed typing furiously.

Pyrrha closed her eyes. There was but one way to defuse this, one way to keep blood from being spilled this night. She stepped forward, her nails returning to normal, her fangs retracting. “Blake…” she said, and held out her hand. “Join us.”

Blake’s yellow eyes widened and she shied away, still in her werecat form. “But…I cannot…it’s forbidden…”

“Jaune’s love and mine is forbidden,” Pyrrha told her. “And yet, we consummate it often. There is room for one more, Blake.”

“Yes,” Jaune said calmly, and held out his hand. “Please, Blake. Join us. There is no reason to fight.”

“But…I…I…” Gambol Shroud fell from her fingers as the lust exploded in her chest. As if ensorcelled—and perhaps she was—she stepped forward, already pulling off the white coat. Cold vampiric fingers and warm werewolf ones helped her undress, until her own pale, nude skin shone in the light. Blake’s chest heaved with desire, and she groaned as Pyrrha’s fangs tickled her neck, as Jaune’s hands touched her. “Kyaaa,” she mewled as Blake melted in their embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meta is fun. 
> 
> Blake is totally a fanfic writer. This is what she does when she's not fighting, reading smut, or fending off Yang. Though I don't know how Pyrrha would feel about sharing Jaune, even in a fanfic.


	17. Big Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang and Ruby decide to surprise Taiyang at home during spring break. They learn it's never a good idea to surprise a parent.
> 
> The question is, who is Taiyang with?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done at the challenge of my friend who got me into RWBY. This one was indeed a challenge, too.

The path to the Xiao Long-Rose household was about two miles long from the main road on Patch, through dense woods. It was spring break for Beacon Academy, and Ruby Rose and Yang Xiao Long were taking advantage of the beautiful weather to walk the six miles from town to their home. They could have called their father Taiyang and had them pick them up, but the two girls agreed that it would be a lot more fun to surprise Dad. Six miles was nothing for young Huntresses, and they were arriving a day earlier than they had told Taiyang they would be getting to Patch—having gotten permission from Ozpin to skip the last day of class. 

“Dad’s going to be so happy!” Ruby said cheerfully as she practically skipped the last mile to home. “This was a great idea, Yang.”

Yang nodded. “Yup. Just hope he’s not mad.”

“Why would he be?” Ruby twirled in place. 

“Well…” Yang turned a little red. “I kinda said something I probably shouldn’t have.” She looked at her feet, uncharacteristically down for her. “Remember when Dad messaged us that he had a surprise for us when we came home for break? I told him not to try and be cool, because he isn’t.”

“He’s not, though,” Ruby replied. “I mean, he’s not like Uncle Qrow, but that’s okay, because he’s just Dad. Besides, when he tries to be cool, he just…kind of…fails.” She remembered the times that Taiyang had tried to show off for his girls, to show that he still had it. This included skateboarding (which ended in several crashes), dancing (like an Ursa with a crippled paw), and flying drones (hitting everything including trees, the house, and Qrow). Taiyang just didn’t seem to understand that he didn’t need to be cool for Ruby and Yang—he just needed to be what he’d always been, a great father.

“I know,” Yang said, as they continued to walk down the path, “but still, Rubes…it was kind of crappy of me to say that. You know Dad just wants to try to connect with us.”

“Yeah,” Ruby replied wistfully. They both knew Taiyang was probably dealing with a bit of empty nest syndrome, with two almost-grown daughters and a house empty of everyone but Zwei. “Well…just tell him you’re sorry, Yang. He’s Dad—he won’t hold it against you.”

“I guess you’re right.” Yang felt a little better. 

They went around a bend in the trail, and then both grinned hugely: they saw their house. It was a nice two-story log cabin affair, in a clearing atop a hill that had a gorgeous view of Patch’s mountains. The scent of sunflowers hit them, blown by a gentle breeze. They stopped at the edge of the clearing, and Ruby saw that Zwei was asleep on the porch. She put a finger to her lips for Yang, then hissed “Zwei!”

The corgi heard her and perked up at the familiar voice. Then he spotted Ruby and Yang, yipped happily, and ran out to them as fast as his stubby legs would take him. Ruby knelt and he jumped into her arms, licking her face, but she closed his mouth when he started to bark. “Shhh, Zwei! We have to surprise Dad!” The dog squirmed in her grasp, but she held onto him long enough to pull a big steak bone out of her belt pouch. She set him down, then handed him the bone. Zwei was too happy to have something to gnaw on to bark now. 

Yang threw Ruby a thumbs-up, and both nodded to each other. With Zwei occupied, they stealthfully made their way up the path to their front door, in a quick, silent dash across the front yard, as if they were assaulting a den of White Fang or Roman Torchwick’s hideout, rather than their own home. They positioned themselves on both sides of the door, flattened against the wall, and Yang counted off three. Ruby put her hand on the knob and turned it; it was unlocked, which meant that Taiyang was home; he never unlocked the door when at home. If anyone was fool enough to break into the house of a respected and experienced Huntsman, they deserved what they got. 

Ruby eased open the door and glanced inside. They couldn’t hear anything, which was odd. If Taiyang had gone for a walk, he would’ve taken Zwei. “Maybe he’s taking a nap?” Ruby asked in a whisper.

Yang’s grin was huge, the devilment of their childhood in their eyes. She’d always been the instigator of the practical jokes on poor old Dad, and Ruby went along like the dutiful little sister. “Let’s get him,” she whispered back. 

“Okay,” Ruby replied, “but don’t pour cold water on his chest this time.” Yang involuntarily winced. When she had been ten, she thought it was uproariously funny to pour a glass of cold water on a sleeping Taiyang’s chest. She’d nearly given him a heart attack, and there was still a dent in the ceiling from where he’d leapt out of bed. 

They entered the house like a SWAT team, complete with hand signals, and slipped off their boots to make less noise. The living room and kitchen were empty, though there was the faint scent of wine and a cork sitting on the kitchen table. That was also odd: Taiyang rarely drank more than the occasional beer, and only drank wine on certain occasions—and never to excess. It wasn’t Qrow’s either, since he drank harder stuff. They got to the base of the stairs leading to the bedrooms on the second floor, and froze. 

“Oh, Tai, that’s right…oh, that feels so fucking good…”

It was a woman’s voice. Yang and Ruby stared popeyed at each other and both turned red with shock and embarrassment. Sons and daughters rarely wanted to acknowledge that their parents had sex lives: although obviously parents did, it was one of the unwritten rules of parenthood that one should be discreet and pretend that one wasn’t thumping the mattress with the other spouse. Making matters more strange was that Taiyang Xiao Long was a single dad—Yang’s mother, Raven, had abandoned them soon after Yang was born, and Summer Rose, Ruby’s mother, had disappeared when Ruby was three.

Yang motioned Ruby down, until they knelt close enough for their hushed voices to barely carry—though from the sounds emanating from upstairs, it was doubtful Tai and whoever he was having sex with would’ve heard if they’d blown the front door off with Ember Celica. “That’s got to be Dad’s surprise!” Yang said as quiet as she could. “He got himself a girlfriend!”

“Yeah, but who?” Ruby’s reddened face got redder at the sound of a long, feminine moan. Yang bit her lip: whereas Ruby was horribly embarrassed at the sounds of her father having sex, Yang was about to burst out laughing. 

“Gods, Tai! Oh, gods, you have _not_ forgotten what this does to me—“ Both the daughters covered their mouths in surprise as _another_ female voice overrode the first. “Yes, Tai! Yes! Harder! Oh, please, harder!”

_Two?!_ Yang mouthed to Ruby. It was one thing for their dad to have found himself a girlfriend, but to be having a threesome? Something was very wrong.

“ _Oh gods, Tai! I’m going to come so fucking hard! Eat me out! Eat meeee!”_ It was the first voice, rising to a scream. Now it was Yang’s turn to blush as hard as Ruby—that was what _she_ sounded like, Yang thought, mortified, when she was in the zone, as it were. 

“Raven…” Taiyang puffed out. “Keep…keep your voice down--”

“Shut the fuck up and don’t stop!”

If the girls’ eyes got any larger, it would be the worst episode of _RWBY Chibi_ ever. “Raven?” Ruby said to Yang, but her sister never replied. Instead, she was moving up the stairs, filled with equal parts revulsion, curiosity, and rage. Raven Branwen, the mother that had abandoned her, the mother that had been never there—and now Taiyang was back together with her, and someone else? _I don’t have a problem with Dad getting laid,_ Yang thought, _but this is too fucking far!_

Ruby, seeing her sister about to make a terrible mistake, correctly assuming that Yang was probably going to kick down a door or two, used her Semblance to shoot past her sister on the stairs in a blur of rose petals. She braced herself against the doorjamb of their father’s bedroom door, and Yang skidded to a halt.

_Out of the way!_ Yang said silently, pointing to one side for emphasis. Ruby shook her head frantically. 

Though neither sister had exactly been stealthy shooting up the stairs, it was obvious that no one had noticed in the bedroom. Raven was screaming again. “ _Tai, yes! Yes! Fuck yes! Gods, I’m coming! Coming so hard! Kiss me, dammit! Kiss me, Summer!”_

Yang, who had been reaching forward to grab Ruby, and Ruby, who had been trying to fend her off with one hand, both stopped cold at that word. As Raven’s words became distinctly muffled, it was Ruby who whirled, spraying Yang with rose petals, and kicked open the door.

The sight in front of them was something no one on Remnant would ever have anticipated—not even Salem, who had spent the last thirty minutes watching the scene with disgust through her scrying glass, but now was at that moment screaming with laughter, pounding the arms of her dark crystalline throne in mirth.

All three people in the room were naked. Taiyang was lying on the bed, mostly hidden behind two female legs. The first belonged to the woman who was, to use the colloquial expression, sitting on Tai’s face, her head bent forward, her fall of wild black hair reaching down to her athletic rear. Her hands were around her large breasts, squeezing nipples so erect they could cut glass. That was surprise enough. What went beyond surprise to absolute pure shock was the fact that Raven Branwen was in a passionate liplock with Summer Rose. Summer, for her part, was straddling Tai, riding an erection that Ruby and Yang were forever thankful they could not see. Her pale skin and small breasts shone in the soft light from the window, her short red hair plastered to her scalp, her arms around Raven’s shoulders. All of them stopped, red, blue, and silver eyes turning to behold two very surprised daughters.

It was too much for Ruby. The sight of a mother that was supposed to be long dead was stunning enough, but the sight of that same mother stark naked atop her father, kissing Yang’s absentee mother was a sight too far. Her mind winked out, Ruby’s silver eyes rolled back into her head, and she collapsed into a dead faint.

Yang was a bit tougher. She pointed at her dad. “Aaah!” she screamed incoherently. Then she pointed at Raven. “Aaaah!” Then she pointed at Summer. “Aaaaah!”

Tai grimaced. “Uh…Yang…I can explain. _We_ can explain!”

Summer broke off the kiss and covered her eyes in shame. Raven, breathing hard in the aftermath of the simutaneously most awesome and most awkward orgasm ever, turned and faced her daughter through strands of hair. " _Still_ think your Dad isn't cool, Yang?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, the challenge was Raven/Summer/Taiyang being surprised by Yang and Ruby, with Summer somehow back from the dead and Raven somehow not estranged any longer. How did that happen? What's Tai's explanation? Well, I'll let the reader decide on that one.
> 
> I actually wrote a backstory to this, but the backstory alone was three pages long, and though it was heading towards the threesome in this chapter, the reunion between Tai and Summer, and Raven's redemption, was so heartbreakingly emotional that I just couldn't write it humorously. I think I'll save that one and revisit it, because it sounds like the basis for a great multichapter story--what would happen if Summer wasn't dead? (And maybe she isn't. After all, Salem didn't actually say that she killed Summer...)


	18. Hot Blooded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Blake hears that Weiss and Ruby are sure Yang is the aggressive, exciting one in their relationship, Blake is upset...and decides to do something about it. She's going to be the one who does the seducing of Yang Xiao Long.
> 
> But of course, nothing ever goes according to plan in this fanfic...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, been awhile! Now that I'm not dividing my attention between "Sunshine and Summertime" and "On RWBY Wings," I can get back to writing some short, smexy, smutty stories. Expect the same amount of silliness and craziness as before. (Trust me, as I get into the Battle of Beacon in "RWBY Wings," I need all the humor writing I can get. The body count in that story is going to be worse than the actual show.)
> 
> And what better way to get "Love Hurts" restarted than another chapted in the Lusty Adventures of Blake and Yang?

It had been several weeks since Yang Xiao Long and Blake Belladonna had become lovers. Neither Weiss Schnee nor Ruby Rose had been particularly surprised by it, and indeed thought it was good for both parties—it had cheered both of them up quite a bit, with Yang rediscovering a sense of fun she’d lost after the Battle of Beacon, and Blake showing a playful side no one in the team knew she had. When Weiss and Ruby discussed the matter privately, they agreed that, if Yang and Blake were doing the sexual healing thing, it was a good thing. 

They also agreed that probably Yang was the aggressor—or, as Weiss had said, the “top” in the relationship. Ruby had to have that explained to her (she wasn’t naïve, just unsure of the meaning), and Weiss then had to explain how _she_ was familiar with the concept. Though neither cared one way or another about their friend’s/sister’s love life, Yang had to be the one who did the original seduction, and the one who set the tone for whatever encounters Blake and Yang had. Blake was just too timid and unsure of herself.

Weiss and Ruby also kept forgetting just how sensitive Faunus ears were. Blake had overheard them talking in the Atlas Academy cafeteria.

That conversation had brought Blake to this point. Though Blake’s pride had taken quite a hit from Adam Taurus, among other things, she was not about to consider herself a “bottom” of anything. She was equally skilled as a warrior as anyone else in Team RWBY; if anything, she was the most experienced when it came to field work. She might prefer to stay silent about some things, but she would take on Salem alone, armed with a salad fork, before she would admit that Yang had always been the aggressor. Even if it was true.

Infuriated without being quite sure why, Blake had stormed out of the cafeteria, hopped an airship down to Mantle, and had gone to the adult novelty store. There, she purchased some toys and some clothing, if the small amount of material could be laughingly referred to as such, and returned to Atlas. Yang was out helping Jaune with school patrol duties, while Weiss and Ruby were working out against Team FNKI, so she was alone in their borrowed dorm room.

Blake stripped naked, showered, then put on the lingerie. First went on the stockings, black, lacy and sheer, snapped onto an equally black, lacy and sheer garter belt. Then over the garter belt and straps went a pair of black, lacy and sheer panties—without a crotch to them, and the back pulled into the cleft of her backside. Finally, a bra that was black, lacy and you get the point barely covered Blake’s full breasts, with little openings for the nipples. Blake looked at herself in the mirror, doing a slow twirl. It was enough to turn _her_ on. The panties emphasized the curves of the Bellabooty, and the lack of a crotch left her nether lips deliciously exposed. It was enough of a turn-on that Blake’s own nipples hardened at the sight, and it took a great deal of willpower not to simply pleasure herself on the bathroom floor. She still might have, had the rest of Team RWBY been better at _cleaning_ the bathroom floor.

Now all she had to do was set the mood. Yang was due to be home first: she was only helping Jaune as a favor, and Ruby and Weiss were supposed to meet Winter and Penny to go over security arrangements for Amity Arena. That would take a few hours, and Blake had broadly dropped a hint to Ruby that, if she wanted to treat Weiss to dinner (or vice-versa), it would be appreciated. Blake reached into the novelty shop bag and pulled out four rose-scented candles. She set them around the room and lit each one, filling the room with a pleasant aroma, and turned the lights down. Finally, she pulled out her Scroll and sent a text to Yang: _When you come back to the dorm, please knock._

Then she sat down and waited, pulling out a copy of _Ninjas of Love VIII: Last Train to Busan_ to get her in the mood.

After half an hour, there was a knock on the door. Blake’s heart began to hammer and she felt that old, odd feeling of pure, homogenized lust ballooning in her lower abdomen. She set the book aside, composed herself, took a breath, and walked to the door. She opened it, half-closing her eyes and striking an appropriately seductive pose of a lady of the night: leaning against the doorjamb, one knee up. “Why, hello there—“

“Oh, hey, Blake!” Ruby ducked past her, holding both Crescent Rose and Myrtenaster. “Sorry! We got done a bit early, and Winter cancelled because she’s going out with Uncle Qrow, and so it’s just me and Weiss and Penny, and we’re going to go grab some eats like you said we should!” Ruby put the weapons in their rack. “Though I guess Penny can’t really eat, so I hope she doesn’t feel left out. Weiss didn’t feel like coming up the stairs—the stupid elevator’s on the fritz again—so I just brought up the weapons. Anyway, you want us to bring you back something?”

Blake still stood at the doorjamb, blinking. Then she shook herself. “Uh, sure. The fish would be great.”

“You really need to vary your diet, Blake.” Ruby ran a hand through her hair and walked back out of the door. She spared the Faunus a quick glance. “Not bad. Sis should like that. Black’s not really her thing, though. She likes yellow, but that outfit would look really weird in yellow. Anyway, what’s the point?”

Blake stepped back into the room before Team JNPR, General Ironwood, or Salem walked by. “It’s supposed to be seductive!” She clapped a hand over her mouth, since that pretty much confirmed that Blake had overheard Weiss and Ruby’s earlier conversation. 

“Yeah, but if you have to take it off, what’s the point? I mean, if you’re having sex, why have _more_ clothes to get off? I mean, I—“ Ruby abruptly realized she was about to say something she would thoroughly regret later, and finished “—I think it’s, um, just not necessary. Like if I put a rocket launcher on Crescent Rose. Anyway, we should be two hours or so, Blake. Have fun!” She waved and closed the door.

Blake sat back down, unsure of what to make of that. Ruby’s reaction to her friend being three-quarters naked and dressed for sex had been, in a word, blasé. She barely seemed to notice. Blake was aware that Ruby was nowhere near as naïve as she sometimes appeared, and both Weiss and Blake strongly suspected that sweet, innocent Ruby Rose was probably thrashing the mattress with Oscar Pine. (Yang tended to see her sister as being forever twelve years old, so she didn’t suspect anything. Luckily for Oscar’s continued health.) Still, though Blake certainly wasn’t trying to seduce Yang’s sister, Ruby’s matter-of-fact reaction, or lack thereof, was a bit disconcerting.

Blake had barely reached for _Ninjas of Love_ again when she heard a knock at the door. She walked over to the door, this time going for a more aggressive posture. She opened the door, used the same sultry expression, added a catlike lick of her lips, and hoisted her breasts up for Yang’s inspection. The problem was, it wasn’t Yang.

Weiss stared at her, and then slowly, a white eyebrow rose into place, stretching the scar over her left eye. “Do I even _want_ to know what kind of weird things you and Yang are up to now?”

“What are _you_ doing here?” Blake exclaimed. “And why did you knock?”

“I knocked because you told all of us to.” Blake glanced at her Scroll, sitting on the desk, and realized with a sinking feeling that she had hit the SEND ALL button. “I’m here to tell Ruby that the elevator _is_ working, and if she had the patience the gods gave a five-year old, she would’ve waited. Is she still here?”

“No…she just left.”

“That figures.” Weiss stared over Blake’s shoulder. “And she left her wallet, which also figures. Over there on the desk. Could you get it for me? I’m afraid to come into the room and see what else you two perverts have planned.”

Blake walked over and got the wallet. “I thought you didn’t care about Yang and I.”

“I don’t. I think what you two have is great. But you two do some downright odd things. Remember the time Yang tried to seduce you by licking one of your Ice Dust clones and got frozen to it? Or the time you two were wrestling naked? Or that time she was wearing oven mitts and you were tied to the chair—I still don’t know what the hell that was supposed to be.”

Blake conceded that Weiss had a point. And she wasn’t sure what the deal was with the oven mitts either—it hadn’t been one of Yang’s better ideas. She handed over Ruby’s wallet. Weiss looked down at the crotchless panties, blushed, and gave a low whistle. “Move the candles a bit, Blake. You’re liable to set the drapes on fire. We should be gone for about two hours. I think I saw Yang getting off the airship. Stretch before you do anything. See you later.” Weiss closed the door.

She left a very confused Faunus. _Okay,_ Blake thought, _I wasn’t trying to seduce Ruby, and I damn sure wasn’t trying to seduce Weiss. But Ruby acts like I’m just wearing a black dress or something, and Weiss acts like Yang and I are just weirdos that she is willing to put up with out of friendship. Other than noticing that I’m sort of hanging out down there, she didn’t react any more than Ruby did._ Blake sat on the floor, and frowned. _Am I just boring? Will Yang just look at me and say ‘Sup’ or worse, laugh? Maybe I’m not good at this…_

Still, it was good advice to stretch, so Blake was doing that when there was a knock on the door. She got to her feet, decided maybe it wouldn’t be as boring if she simply attacked Yang, flung open the door, and kissed Yang violently.

It might’ve been enough to sweep Yang off her feet…if it hadn’t been not Yang, but Lie Ren.

Blake abruptly felt the lips under hers were not Yang’s. She opened her eyes. Yellow Faunus eyes met purple human ones. She shrank back. “R-Ren?!”

Ren was, luckily, hard to rattle. He had experienced a rough life, after all, and when Nora Valkyrie was one’s girlfriend, one learned to adapt quickly to unexpected situations. “Ah. My apologies, Blake.”

She covered herself with her hands. “What are you doing here?”

“Nora wanted to know—“

“Hey, Blake!” Nora Valkyrie stepped out of Team JNR’s dorm room. “We were going to get some dinner, and—“ Then she stopped, seeing what Blake wasn’t wearing, and a slow smile spread across her face. “Oh, looks like you’re having Yang for dinner. Never mind. C’mon, Ren.” Ren mouthed _I’m sorry_ to Blake, averted his eyes, and walked away. Nora looked Blake up and down, winked, threw her a thumbs-up, and skipped after Ren. Blake guessed that Nora hadn't seen the kiss, otherwise the hammer wielder would've been trying to turn Blake into modern sculpture.

Blake gave up. She stripped out of the lingerie, tossed them into the garbage, blew out the candles, turned the lights on, and climbed naked into bed. When there was a knock ten minutes later, she didn’t even bother getting up. Yang walked into the room a moment later.

Some people said Yang Xiao Long was insensitive, but that wasn’t fair, and certainly didn’t apply to Team RWBY, much less Blake. She knew something was wrong. “Blakey? You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Blake said over her shoulder, but she couldn’t hide the depression in her voice.

“No, you’re not.” Yang came over and sat down on the floor next to Blake’s bunk. “Weiss had a weird expression on her face and Nora was giggling at something, and for some reason, Ren was blushing. What’s up?”

Blake sighed, turned over, and told Yang the whole sordid tale. Yang chuckled and ruffled Blake’s hair. “You wanted to seduce me, Blake?”

“Yes. Maybe it’s stupid pride, Yang, but Weiss is right. You’re always the aggressive one. You always instigate. I didn’t think I minded, but…I guess I do. It’s not fair to you, and it makes me feel…I don’t know…second-best. Boring.”

Yang leaned over and kissed Blake on the forehead. “You’ll never be that, Blakey. You’re made of awesome and I love you.”

Blake smiled. “Thanks.”

“So…you want to seduce me?” Yang asked, taking off her jacket. “And there was lingerie involved?” She shook her head. “Not necessary. You can seduce me just being naked.”

“Not the same, Yang. I went to a lot of trouble."

“Okay, fair.” Yang shucked off her boots. “I’m going to go take a shower. Those kids were little monsters today—that’s why I’m running late. But if something should come up in the shower, well…” She winked at Blake.

“It’s not the same,” Blake repeated. The mood was gone.

“Well…okay.” Yang sauntered to the bathroom and closed the door.

Blake watched her go. Then she laughed--at herself, at the situation. She padded over to the garbage can, pulled out the lingerie, dusted them off, and quickly put the black, lacy, sheer stuff back on. Then she grabbed a candle, lit it, and carried it into the shower. Yang’s clothes were strewn on the floor, and the shower curtain was drawn as the water cut on. Blake set the candle on the sink—careful to keep it clear of anything flammable, like Weiss’ makeup—and slowly pulled open the shower curtain.

Yang looked over, and her eyes widened. “Holy…schneet.”

“I’m going to make love to you, Yang Xiao Long,” Blake purred. “And we’re going to get very wet. In more ways than one.” Then she climbed into the shower, and pulled the curtain shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like a lot of the "Love Hurts" chapters, this story takes place towards the beginning of Season 7 (before the fit hit the shan), and references some of the earlier chapters. 
> 
> I've got a ton more ideas, but if you have any you'd like me to try, let me know!


	19. Weird Science

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Emerald asks Salem one day if she's ever had a Grimm as a lover, Salem thinks it's positively disgusting.
> 
> But then she starts thinking about it. What if she gave a Grimm more intelligence, made it more human, and gave it free will? Would it be so disgusting then? You know what they say about idle hands...

It was a lazy afternoon at Salem’s castle—or at least everyone assumed it was. Since the sun rarely showed through the clouds in the perpetual half-darkness of Salem’s realm, only the clocks in the castle really gave any indication of day or night. And since Salem didn’t really need to sleep any longer, it threw everyone else’s schedule off-kilter.

Salem was sitting in her crystal throne, her feet up on the table, reading _How to Win Friends and Influence People._ The only other occupant of the room was Emerald Sustrai, who was playing on her Scroll and bored out of her mind. With Watts and Tyrian in Atlas setting the stage, as it were, there was really nothing for her or Mercury to do. They were out of Salem’s doghouse for the failure at Haven, but just because Salem was no longer in the mood to annihilate them didn’t mean she was going to give them a mission yet. 

Because boredom tends to give people poor impulse control, Emerald got up from her chair and looked out the high windows at the Grimm birthing pools below. “Mistress Salem, can I ask you a weird question?”

Salem turned the page. Truth to tell, the book wasn’t really holding her, and she was bored too. “I suppose so.”

“Do you ever get lonely?”

Salem looked up over her book. She decided to tell the truth. “Occasionally. Why?” She wondered where Emerald was going with this. She suspected that Emerald might have same-team tendencies, but was probably more interested in Cinder than Salem. Still, it might be interesting. 

“Well…and I don’t mean to offend…”

“Speak, child.”

“Have you ever considered…y’know…making a Grimm to be your lover?”

Salem shut the book. “I believe that would be bestiality, Emerald. And while I have done many strange things during my immortal life, I have never done that.”

“But couldn’t you make them intelligent? You can create Grimm, so can you make them intelligent?” Emerald asked. “I guess then it would be like having a Faunus lover.”

“I don’t know why I would do that, but I suppose so.” Salem raised an eyebrow. “Why? Would you like me to make you a Grimm lover?”

Emerald looked nauseated. “Ew. No. I was just curious.”

“That’s disgusting. What are they teaching you in school these days?” Salem stood. “I am retiring. Put those thoughts out of your head, Emerald Sustrai, before I mindwipe you. Intelligent Grimm lovers, indeed.” Emerald shrank back against the wall at that threat, and Salem stalked out of the throne room to her own chambers.

That night, Salem tossed and turned. While she didn’t have to sleep, she still did so as a way to recharge, and quiet her own mind. But perversely, her mind wasn’t being particularly quiet tonight.

Emerald’s words kept coming back to her. A Grimm lover? It _was_ disgusting…but if she made one intelligent? She could do that. The more she thought about it, the more it intrigued her. And it was something new. She didn’t know about the lover part, but intelligent Grimm could be useful. She wouldn’t have to worry about them turning on her or having their own ambitions and desires that would thwart her plans.

Salem got up from her bed, summoned her cloak around her, and walked out of the castle. She made her way down the long stairs to the birthing pools, and came to the one that seemed to work the best for new Grimm. Around her, Beowolves and Ursai sniffed and snuffled, but she waved her hands, and they left.

She contemplated the pool. She needed a template. A Beringal? Too big. Ursa would have the same problem. She would need something roughly man-sized, maybe a little taller. A Beowulf should work. Whispering the words of dark magic, Salem began shaping her creation in the pool. Black ooze leapt upwards and began to coalesce into a humanoid shape. She began working on the head. She gave it wolflike ears, but hesitated a moment before giving it a human face. Long hair—she’d always liked long hair. She made it lustrous. Horns? She at first gave it huge horns, but that reminded her too much of the Brother Gods, and she hated them. Smaller horns would be fine. Just to give it that demonic quality. 

_Now the muscles_ , she said. She made the torso a little less hunched over, making it more manlike, but gave it some fur for character. Broad shoulders, well defined pectorals, solid six-pack of abdominals. No spikes, because that might hurt her skin—

_Whoa,_ Salem thought. _Hurt my skin? Do I intend to ride this thing, or do I intend to…_ ride _this thing?_ Salem paused. Maybe it _could_ be a lover. It wasn’t really an animal any more, not if she made it intelligent. It would be like her own personal Faunus. She’d taken a few Faunus as lovers over the centuries. Their stamina had been useful, if nothing else…and she did occasionally like her shoulders nibbled. 

Salem shivered, and not from cold. Why not? She had nothing else to do at the moment, and the more she thought about it, the hotter it sounded. Salem licked her lips and went back to work. 

The fur was reduced down to a hairy chest and arms. The teeth were reduced from rows of savage, pointy teeth to just regular teeth, with fangs. The legs were made muscular, but instead of the reversed digitgrade feet of Beowolves, she made them humanlike. She paused, then added some armor around the shoulders and across the chest and back. Just in case she needed this lover to be a bodyguard as well. Claws as well—but retractable. 

Salem felt her breathing getting a little harder. Her mouth was dry, but somewhere else was getting wet. She snapped away her cloak and finished her shaping naked, which was more of a turn-on than she’d ever thought it would be. The shattered moon bathed her pale body, and occasionally, as she worked her magic, she would “accidentally” brush up her stiffened nipples, just for an electric thrill of pleasure. 

_And now for the good part!_ She spun the Grimm in place, giving it hard buttocks—hard but eminently squeezable. Taking a breath, Salem spun it again, and gave it genitalia. At first, she gave it an enormous member that hung to its knees, and testicles as big as grapefruits. Then she stepped back, surveyed it, and shook her head. That was _too_ big. She reduced the size to something a bit more manageable—normal testes, and a penis with slightly above average girth, and a length around nine inches. She whistled lowly. “Oh my,” she breathed. “You _are_ going to be fun.”

Now came the tough part: the brain. She couldn’t give it a Grimm brain, of course; Grimm lived to destroy. That wouldn’t be a lot of fun as a lover. Instead, she gave it a larger brain, human-sized. She couldn’t really give it intelligence per se—intelligence had to be learned—but she could give it the ability to think and learn. Then she paused again. Free will or not? Grimm did not have free will, really. They would just tear things apart. They were independent in that regard, but they would obey Salem without hesitation. She wasn’t sure if she wanted that in a lover. If she wanted a mind-controlled servant with a big tool, she could simply mind control Hazel. She’d done that in the past—not to Hazel, because one never fished in the company pond—but to other Huntsmen and Huntresses. Sometimes it was fun to watch them struggle as she crushed their wills, to seduce them slowly and watch them struggle against their better natures…but the novelty wore off fast. She got enough “Yes, Mistress Salem” from her current minions. 

After a few moments, Salem left out the normal rend-tear-maim programming of the Grimm. She’d let this one figure things out on its own. It would love her, of course, but it would _want_ to love her. However, it _did_ need to know how to speak and so on. Concentrating, she gave it much the same knowledge as she herself had. After all, when it wasn’t having incredibly mind-bending sex with her, the Grimm would need to be useful otherwise. A minion she could actually rely upon, for a change.

She was finished. Swallowing and trying to control her heartbeat—Salem’s heart didn’t need to beat either, but it was going like a jackhammer—she dunked the Grimm into the pool, submerging it, letting the ancient magic work. Then she waited. 

Salem didn’t have to wait long. A jet-black hand emerged from the pool, grabbed the shore, and pulled. Then another hand. Then the head. Then it was out, ooze dripping from the body. Red eyes opened. It looked at the sky, then raised its hands. Then it saw Salem. “Who are you?” it said. The voice was surprisingly normal—neither pitched low nor high.

“It’s alive!” Salem yelled, punching her fists in the air. “I did it!” 

“I’m…alive?” It regarded its hands again. 

“Yes, you’re alive. And you’re magnificent.” She walked up to the Grimm, running her hands over its arms and torso. She wanted this Grimm in her, now. She wondered if she was actually dripping with desire. “And…you need a name.” She thought for a moment, then smiled. “Marty. Your name is Marty.”

“Marty. My name is Marty.” It turned and looked at her. She shivered again. He smiled down at her—she supposed she should stop thinking of Marty as an it, as he was most definitely male. “And you’re…Salem.”

“Oh yes. I’m Salem.” She stepped back, opening her arms. “Am I not beautiful?”

“No.”

Salem blinked. “Um…excuse me?”

Marty shook his head. “I’m sorry, Salem, but you’re just not my type.”

She blinked again. “What…huh?”

He nodded, and motioned at her. “Well, I’m sure you _are_ beautiful, for a human. Quite attractive, really.”

Salem closed her eyes, took a breath, and opened them again. All right. This was understandable. Marty was just created, and his mind was something of a blank slate. She slowly sank to her knees, leaned back, ran her hands over her breasts, then across her glistening folds. She needed to get those instincts going. “Yes, I am. _Quite_ attractive.”

Marty struck a thoughtful pose. “All right, yes. I will grant you that. And by your current state and the smell you’re giving off—“ Salem remembered; she’d forgotten to take away the Grimm acute sense of smell. That was all right, though; it could be useful. “—I can tell you’re sexually aroused. But I’m afraid it just won’t work.”

Salem dropped onto her butt. “Why the hell not?”

“Because I’m a Grimm! You’re human!” Marty made much the same nauseated face as Emerald did. “That’s gross.”

“But—“

“And you just created me, right? So doesn’t that kind of make you like my mother?”

Salem’s stomach heaved. “Oh gods. When you put it like that…”

“Exactly. Now I don’t know about you, Miss Salem, but I draw the line at cross-species sexual relations, and incest is just disgusting.” He looked down at himself. “And I’m naked. Now this is just awkward.”

Salem buried her face in her hands. “Just once. Just _once_ I want one of my plans to go right.” She sighed between her fingers. “All right. But you’re going to be useful, Marty. Otherwise I’m going to blow you apart right here.”

“Please don’t do that, Miss Salem.” Marty thought for a moment. “I know from your memories that you feel your current minions are idiots.”

“That’s the truth.”

“Well, perhaps, Miss Salem…I could be your…butler?”

Salem gave that some thought. Marty was at least loyal to her. And she did miss having servants. Hazel tended to react violently when she demanded he serve her, Mercury and Emerald could screw up a free lunch, Watts was just too weird, and Tyrian…she’d rather be served her dinner by an Ursa than trust Tyrian Callows to do it. 

“Fine.” Salem stood, and magicked a butler’s outfit on Marty. He looked down, nodded, and straightened his bowtie. “Yes, quite,” he said. “Might I fetch your cloak, Miss Salem?”

She clothed herself. “No. But follow me. If you have my memories, you know how I like my eggs.”

“Over easy.”

“And my martinis.”

“Straight up, with a twist.”

Salem smiled. “Well, then.”

As they walked through the main doors to the castle, Emerald walked by, munching on cereal. She nearly spit her spoon out. “What the fu—“

Salem, with a flick of her finger, sent Emerald’s cereal flying into her face. Then she gave Emerald some wall-to-wall counseling, as it were. Luckily, Emerald’s Aura saved her from more than just bruises. “Next time you have a weird thought,” Salem snarled. “Keep it to your own damn self.”

“I say,” Marty spoke, “you seem to have made a mess, Miss Sustrai. Allow me to clean it up.” He looked at Salem.

“Broom closet is down the hall, four doors on the right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, I do so enjoy writing Salem as a harried, occasionally confused, sometimes horny witch who is surrounded by morons. Originally, this was titled "Love Stinks," but "Weird Science" seems so much better.


	20. Eat It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby knows Weiss is in a bad mood, so she decides to fall back on an old Beacon tactic: bake some cookies! Unfortunately for Ruby, Yang's also fallen back on an old Beacon tactic, one with an explosive effect on whoever consumes it.
> 
> And Ruby just put it in her cookies...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter calls back to Chapter 10 of this fanfic--"Funky Cold Medina." You'd think people would found not to mess around.
> 
> This was inspired by a brief thought by Weiss in "Sunshine and Summertime," where she wonders if Ruby gets turned on by the smell of cookies. She doesn't, but this is one of those things that happens when your muse is obviously stir-crazy from quarantine and it's 3 AM.

Yang Xiao Long chortled and snickered on the airship all the way back from Mantle. Yang was sometimes and wrongly considered unintelligent and unimaginative by people that knew her, mainly because her battle style consisted of charging her foes and pounding them into paste. In actuality, however, Yang could be _quite_ inventive if the mood was on her. And the mood was indeed on her.

The night before, Yang and Jaune had been assigned by Winter Schnee to patrol a nightclub in Mantle; Tyrian Callows had been spotted in the area two days before, and it was thought he might just pick the club to start randomly murdering people, since Tyrian had a knack for that sort of thing. In the end, nothing had happened, and Yang had enjoyed herself at government expense. She and Jaune had got to talking over Strawberry Sunrises, and Jaune, who had been a bit lonely, had ended up talking about Pyrrha Nikos. Yang was careful to steer the conversation towards more happy memories, and Jaune had mentioned the time when Pyrrha had been utterly insatiable in bed. Yang had been surprised to learn Jaune had more or less accidentally slipped Pyrrha some sort of Vacuoan aphrodisiac, though she was not surprised to learn Uncle Qrow was more or less responsible. 

And that had given Yang an idea. It was a good idea in her mind. It was a terrible idea in reality, so it was a good, terrible idea.

Blake Belladonna was a wonderful lover, but there were only so many ways one could have sex, and Yang was constantly looking for ways to spice things up. Their attempt at scissoring had ended in a wrestling match, so that was out. Blake had taken the initiative with her lingerie, but though that had led to a marathon (and dangerous) lovemaking session in the shower, Yang thought it was something of a one-trick pony. But now, after a quick trip to a shop in Mantle (after bribing Marrow Amin to tell her where it was), Yang had a packet of the stuff Jaune had used on Pyrrha. She knew from Jaune’s story to only use a small pinch of the stuff, but Yang figured it would help Blake lose some of her inhibitions—crotchless panties aside, she was still rather shy—and hopefully turn the Faunus into a nymphomaniacal, slavering beast of sex. 

She got back to Team RWBY’s dorm room at Atlas Academy. There was the sound of a shower behind the closed bathroom door, but it shut off almost as soon as Yang closed the dorm room door. Yang put an ear to the door and heard tuneless humming, which meant it was her sister. Ruby Rose could not carry a tune to save her life; Blake wouldn’t be making a noise at all, and when Weiss sang in the shower, it was with the lilting tones of a true professional singer. As Ruby dried herself off, Yang looked frantically for a place to put the little packet where it wouldn’t be obvious. Surprisingly enough, there weren’t a lot of hiding places in the room. Finally Yang stuck it in the room’s small pantry; for a four-person dorm room, there was a small stove and refrigerator. She stuck it with the rest of a tiny group of spices and was just closing the pantry when Ruby came out of the bathroom in her underwear. “Hey, sis,” she greeted Yang.

“’Sup, Rubes.” Yang casually sat down while Ruby got dressed in gym shorts and an Atlas Academy T-shirt. “Where’s Weiss and Blake?”

“Weiss had a late lunch with her sister, and Blake’s at the gym helping Oscar.”

“Yeah? What are you up to?”

Ruby shrugged. “I dunno. Probably just going to screw around on my Scroll until dinnertime. I had wall duty with Nora and Ren today.”

Yang got to her feet. “Well, hell. I think I’ll go down and bug Blake.”

“Just don’t bug Weiss. She’s been a bad mood all day. I don’t know if she’s on the rag or—“

“—or she’s just being Weiss.” Yang and Ruby shared a grin. Weiss Schnee was their friend and they’d happily lay down their lives for her, but while Weiss had long ago lost the sneering arrogance she’d had on that first day at Beacon, she could still be stuffy and uppity, with a sharp tongue that could slice an ego to ribbons in seconds. “Catch ya later, Rubes.”

“Seeya.” Yang left and Ruby hung up her battle uniform; she’d tossed it haphazardly on the beds, which would probably set Weiss off. That got Ruby to thinking about those first weeks at Beacon, when she was sure Weiss hated her. She’d made little peace offerings that had slowly gotten the Schnee heiress to warm up to her—and one of those was a plate of fresh chocolate chip cookies.

Ruby was good at baking cookies. Though she didn’t remember Summer Rose all that well, she remembered her mother’s cookies most of all. Anytime Ruby grew melancholy over her mother, she’d haul out a tube of cookie mix and a cooking tray, and a fresh batch of cookies always set the world right. Ruby crossed over to the refrigerator and pulled out the tube of cookie mix she’d bought just for such an occasion. She pulled out a bag of chocolate chips, took a breath and mastered the desire to simply inhale the entire bag at one sitting—she’d done that at Beacon and had to be nearly peeled off the ceiling from the sugar high—and went to work. She preheated the tiny oven, prepared the dough, added the chocolate chips, and then decided she needed a little something else to spice it up a bit. Once she had added bacon to the cookies, which Team RWBY had liked, even if Blake remarked that it had an aftertaste like gunpowder. 

Rummaging through the pantry, she found a small, unmarked paper bag. Curious, Ruby opened it and sniffed. It smelled like peppermint. “Whoa,” Ruby said aloud, and smiled. Peppermint and chocolate chips would be awesome. She was careful to use just a few pinches, scattered across the cookies. She then stuck the cookies in the oven. With any luck, they would be ready just as Team RWBY got back from their errands.

In the end, the rest of the team was still gone when the oven beeped. Ruby put down her comic book, got some oven mitts she’d found under Yang’s pillow for some reason, and got the tray out. The smell of fresh cookies wafted from the stove, and Ruby closed her eyes in bliss. Perfect. She put the tray out to cool, tossed the mitts onto the counter, and waited. However, patience was not one of Ruby Rose’s traits, and she grabbed a cookie—strictly to sample, she convinced herself. It was still gooey, but that was the best part. Ruby took a bite. “Ohf muyf _gofs,_ ” she said. The cookie was excellent, the chocolate evaporating in her mouth, the peppermint having just enough of a kick. Once the cookie was consumed, Ruby licked her fingers, then stared at the tray. She’d made a dozen cookies—eleven now—but surely nobody in the team would begrudge her a second cookie. She’d made them, after all. Another cookie, somewhat less gooey and somewhat more pepperminty, disappeared into Ruby’s mouth. She reached for a third, stopped herself, sighed, and grabbed a few paper towels to cover the cookies. _Out of sight, out of mind,_ Ruby thought, and sat down on the floor, picking up her comic.

A minute later, Ruby wondered who had turned up the thermostat. It was suddenly kind of hot in the dorm room. Then her skin felt…odd. Not itchy, really, but just…constrained. Ruby threw off her shirt. It helped, but now her skin developed goosebumps. It felt very sensitive. Ruby ran a hand up an arm, and just the touch of her fingers sent a thrill through her body. The electric touch ran up her arm to her spine, then shot downwards and seemed to leave her body through her rear. Ruby wiped sweat from her brow. Was she sick? No, she wasn’t feverish. Her breasts felt strangely swollen. She looked down, and her nipples were stiff, outlined against the material of the bra. Something was wrong. Or really, really right.

Ruby picked up her Scroll to look up her symptoms, and crossed her legs out of habit. This brought friction between her thighs—something Ruby normally would never have noticed, but now was like more electric shocks, these running the other way up her spine and ending in whatever part of her brain was the pleasure center. Ruby’s silver eyes widened in shock. Fingers trembling, she hesitantly moved them down, under the waistband of the shorts and panties, and ran a finger over her nether lips, which also felt oddly swollen. She pulled the fingers back up and held them in front of her. They were shining with moisture. Just the sight of it made the lust in Ruby’s brain explode.

Bra, shorts and panties went flying, and Ruby leaned back against her bed. Her right hand went to her crotch and began frantically rubbing herself, the fingers sliding over the engorged clitoris and her slick folds; her left began pulling at her nipples, which felt painfully erect. Conscious thought took the next five minutes off as Ruby brought herself to orgasm in record time. When she came, she lifted her entire body off the floor, balanced on her elbows and heels, biting her lip to keep from screaming. She collapsed when her body finally stopped shuddering. “What…the…hell…” Ruby puffed out. Her fingers were twitching. She’d _never_ felt anything like that—never by herself, and not even the few times she and Oscar had made love. 

Thinking of Oscar suddenly set off the runaway lust train again. Ruby’s breasts felt uncomfortably full, needing the attention of hands—preferably Oscar’s rough, farmer’s hands, but her own Crescent Rose-calloused hands would more than do. Between her legs felt incredibly empty, and if her breasts were politely requesting someone grab them and squeeze them, Ruby’s vagina was demanding to be filled posthaste. Ruby reached her right hand down again, but barely stopped herself, knowing that if one finger reached its destination, she’d be going to town again—and this time, she probably _would_ scream. 

Then the peppermint smell reached her from the cooled cookies, and Ruby was lost. Her fingers plunged inside her with abandon, and she could not hold back a groan of satisfaction. One hand was not enough: both went to her crotch, fingers playing everywhere, inside and out. Even that wasn’t enough: somehow Ruby got to shaky feet, braced herself against the metal partition of the bunk beds, and began sliding up and down it in rhythm to her hands, providing some stimulation of her backside as well. Occasionally one hand left off its ministrations to run over her face and hair—even her _hair_ felt good, and she imagined Oscar running his fingers through it. Before long, Ruby stiffened, let out a loud moan, and pressed her legs together even as she slid back down to the floor, head thrown back in ecstasy as she reached her peak again.

“W-Whoa…” Ruby said, when she got her breath back a second time. She looked at the clock—it had only been ten minutes. Before, when she’d felt the need to get a little release, it had taken a good twenty minutes just to get off once. “I’ve got…got to call someone…” Shaking, she grabbed at her Scroll, and opened her contacts list. Yang would know. Then she saw Oscar’s number, and her brain screamed with a voice not unlike Cinder Fall’s, for some weird reason, _do it, call Oscar, get him over here, fuck him harder than the level on_ Super Murder Death Kill XXIII, _you know, the one with the demon with the chainsaw and the rocket launcher—_

Then the door clicked open. A split-second before it did, Ruby heard the voices of the rest of Team RWBY. 

Thankfully, Ruby’s Semblance was speed—she wondered idly if maybe her Semblance had gone haywire, and _that_ was why she was getting herself off so quickly—and she disappeared under her covers in a blur of red rose petals. Yang, Blake and Weiss stepped into the room. “Hey, Rubes!” Yang greeted her. “Ready to eat?”

Then the smell of the cookies hit them. All three inhaled the chocolate/peppermint smell. Ruby watched them with horror, wondering if Team RWBY was about to dissolve into a team orgy. Her addled brain liked that, and to even more horror, Ruby realized that, under the covers, her fingers were back between her legs.

Nothing happened, however. Weiss went over and took the paper towels off the cookies. “Oh, cookies! Did you bake these, Ruby?” Ruby had been right: Weiss’ grumpy mood, already fading due to a pleasant lunch with her sister, evaporated completely. She picked up a cookie. “Smells wonderful.”

“Weiss—“ Ruby croaked, her mouth still very dry from all the panting.

Weiss brought the cookie to her lips. 

Without warning, Yang’s artificial hand shot out and snatched the cookie out of her friend’s hand. “Yang, what the hell—“ she began, but Yang’s other hand was holding up the paper sack. Blake had been reaching for a cookie as well, but Yang got between the Faunus and the cookies—even if Yang’s lust warred with her conscience to let Blake eat all the cookies she wanted. Conscience won, since if that happened, she’d have to bodily throw Ruby and Weiss out of the room.

“Ruby,” Yang said, “did you use this stuff?” She held up the bag.

Ruby nodded. “Yeah. I thought it was peppermint.”

“It’s not. It’s…” Yang hesitated, then rattled off the Vacuoan name for the aphrodisiac. Weiss drew back. “That’s a mild poison,” she stated.

Blake took a step back as well, and looked at Yang. “It’s also an aphrodisiac! How did you know about that, Yang?”

The truth would come out, but Yang fought a delaying action. “How did _you_ know?” she demanded of Blake.

“I…” Blake turned a little pink. “It was in _Ninjas of Love._ ”

“Of course it was.” Weiss fixed Yang with an icy stare. “Why do I get the feeling this is another one of your ideas, Yang?”

Yang said nothing. Or tried to, but under the stares of her friends, and out of worry for her sister, she finally wilted. “Okay! Fine! I bought this stuff today! I figured I’d spice up our sex life, Blake!”

“Were you born crazy or was there a class at Beacon I missed?” Blake shouted.

Weiss held up a hand. While she was well aware of Blake and Yang’s relationship, she really did not need to hear the sordid details. “Enough. Ruby, you put aphrodisiac in your cookies.” It was a statement, not a question.

Ruby looked down. “Yep.”

“By accident, I should hope?”

“Yep.”

“And did you eat any of them?”

Ruby let the covers fall down off her shoulders, enough that Weiss could draw the right conclusion. “Yep.”

Yang put the bag down. “Rubes…this is my fault. I am so sorry. I never thought…” Yang slumped against the counter. “Oh gods…I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay,” Ruby said. She wanted to get out of bed to comfort her sister, but she was still naked beneath the covers. “It’s okay, Yang.”

Weiss sighed. “Well, as I recall from my studies—which did _not_ mention its aphrodisiacal qualities—there is no antidote. But it really doesn’t do anything long-lasting or harmful, so I guess we just wait until it wears off.” She picked up the cookie tray, ignored the wonderful smell, and dumped them in the garbage. “Is that the way they describe it in your smu—er, your books, Blake?”

“I think so. The kunoichi only used it once.” Blake watched Yang dump the bag in the garbage, and sighed. She couldn’t stay mad at her lover. She put an arm around Yang. “You don’t need anything to get me ‘all lusty,’ Yang,” she whispered. “Just be you.” Yang nodded miserably, feeling like a proper heel.

Weiss smiled at Ruby. “You probably want some privacy, Ruby. We’ll bring you back some dinner, okay? Just try to rest.”

“You gonna be okay, Rubes?” Yang asked.

“Yeah. I think it’s wearing off, honestly.”

“Call us if you need help. Or Nora—she’s next door with Ren.” Blake gave Ruby a knowing nod; with her Faunus senses, she could smell what Ruby had been up to. The three girls gave their team leader sympathetic looks, and closed the door behind them. Neither Ruby, nor Weiss, nor Yang noticed that Blake held one of the cookies behind her back; she had grabbed it while Weiss’ back was turned. Turnabout was fair play, after all. 

Ruby lay back in bed. It wasn’t wearing off, though at least she could think more or less straight. She picked up her Scroll, dialed Oscar’s number. “Hey, it’s me,” she said. “You busy? You’re _not?_ ” Ruby grinned. “Have you eaten anything?” Her grin turned predatory. “Would you like… _me_ for dinner? I’m all alone over here, and I’m really…tasty.”

She hadn’t even put the Scroll down when there was a frantic knock on the door. She got up, crossed the room, and opened the door a crack. Oscar stood there, having set a new land speed record from his room. He took in her nude form. His nose wrinkled. “What’s that smell?”

“It’s me,” Ruby breathed, grabbed him by his orange suspenders, and dragged him into the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A friend of mine really did add bacon to chocolate chip cookies. They were good, but IMHO there was a cordite aftertaste. 
> 
> What's the moral of this story? One, don't put anything in your food that you're not sure of. Two, Yang has worse impulse control in this story than Salem.


	21. Strawberry Fields Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Oscar and Ruby have some time to themselves, and they've decided to experiment a little. After all, when you're newly in love, everything seems new and wonderful. The two lovers meet in Team RWBY's dorm room, with nothing but the moon for company and romance on the schedule.
> 
> Yeah, like that's going to last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the request of CJ Lowder, here's the latest installment of the Fluffy Adventures of Rosegarden.

As frequently begins these stories, there was a knock on the door to the room of Team RWBY. Ruby Rose, who had been sitting in bed trying to read, leapt out of the top bunk, landed easily on the floor, and dashed to the door. She opened it just a bit, just to make sure it was who she hoped it was. 

“Hey,” Oscar Pine whispered. 

“Hey!” Ruby said happily. She opened the door a little further, enough to let Oscar in, and then closed it quickly. Before he even had a chance to set down the paper bag he was carrying, she had put her arms around him and drew him into a kiss. “Are we okay?” he asked.

“Yep,” Ruby assured him. “Yang and Blake went clubbing, and Weiss is with her sister for the night. We’ve got at least four to five hours to play with.” She licked her lips very suggestively. “And I _really_ want to play.”

“O-okay,” Oscar replied. His heart was thudding in his chest with anticipation. 

“So…you said you were going to get some…um…toys?” Ruby asked. Her heart was running a marathon as well. They had been lovers now for a month, had made love five times. Each time was better than the last. It didn’t hurt anymore, they weren’t shy around each other when naked, and what had been first friendship, then deep affection, was deepening into something both had a feeling was love. And neither cared if it was. 

That said, the initial mystique of sex was wearing off a bit. There were a few things Ruby and Oscar hadn’t tried yet, but generally speaking, they’d kept things pretty traditional. She’d been on top, he’d been on top, they’d gone side to side; they’d even tried oral, which both of them weren’t very sure of yet. Neither of them tasted exactly like honey or strawberries like the books said. Still, though neither of them had a problem with pleasing the other, both had agreed that their next time would have something new. Ruby wasn’t sure exactly what, so Oscar had taken it upon himself to learn.

Ruby had thought that some “toys” might be fun; she knew her sister used them on several occasions. Oscar didn’t know who to ask about it: he couldn’t ask Team RWBY (it was too embarrassing, and they might laugh—or worse, demolish him, in Yang’s case); he didn’t think Jaune Arc would know, and asking Qrow Branwen—who probably _would_ know—was asking for Harbinger to be introduced to Oscar’s fleshy body. Though Yang was aware that her little sister was not so little anymore, as far as anyone knew, Qrow was in the dark, and Ruby was going to make sure it stayed that way. Eventually, by a process of elimination, Oscar had gone to Lie Ren. And to his surprise, Ren had smiled, nodded, and told Oscar of a place in Mantle. Ren’s lover was Nora Valkyrie, who had an attention span of a three year old after two pots of coffee: Ren had quickly discovered that Nora definitely wanted more than the old in-out in-out after awhile.

So, armed with that knowledge, Oscar had gone into the little shop in Mantle, in a disguise that fooled no one, but with enough lien that the proprietor had looked the other way. He had come out with various implements that, had Oscar still been living on the farm, would have gotten him arrested. 

Both of them sat on the floor, and he opened the bag. First, he drew out a blindfold—of sorts; it was really no different than the mask Ruby wore to bed. Ruby examined it. “You want to blindfold me?”

“I thought maybe it would be…interesting,” he finished, somewhat lamely.

“But I want to see you.”

Oscar set it aside. That had been a non-starter. Then he pulled out something that looked like a feather duster. “This is a tickler, I think.”

Ruby grinned. “Oh no. I scream when I get tickled. But that might be fun.” She put it close to her.

The next toy was three silver balls, joined by a red silk strong. Ruby held them up. “Er…”

“Um…yeah. This gets put in your…you know…and then you sort of draw them out. Supposed to really, ah, blow your mind.” Oscar blushed.

She considered them more closely. “I don’t know…do you pull them out slowly, or like you’re trying to start a lawnmower?”

Oscar didn’t have an answer for that one, so that was set aside next to the blindfold. The next item was lubricant that really _did_ smell and taste like strawberries. Ruby put that next to the tickler. Finally, he pulled out a box of condoms. “Oscar,” Ruby told him, “you really didn’t have to do that. I’ve been keeping up on my contraceptive shot.”

“Yeah, but these are different.” He opened the box, and each condom was inside a box of its own, with a picture. Some were glow-in-the-dark, some were ribbed for her pleasure, and some had nubs on them, also for her pleasure. “The store owner had some with Dust on them, but that just sounded dangerous.”

Ruby turned red. The glow in the dark ones sounded interesting, but it was the nubbed one that really intrigued her. “Let’s try that one.” 

“Okay.” Oscar carefully put everything else back in the bag—with the exception of the lube—and stood up, taking off his shirt. He was peeling down his suspenders when Ruby also got up, and put a hand out. She pushed him down gently, opened the blinds, and shut the lights off. Now the room was lit up dimly by the lights of Atlas, and the shattered moon above. It at once made the dorm room more intimate. 

And then Ruby Rose—shy, innocent, naïve Ruby Rose—began to dance.

It was a dance that would’ve shocked her teammates, caused her father to start drinking, caused her uncle to drink more, and, had she still been around, caused Summer Rose to wonder which side of the family she’d gotten _that_ from. It was a sensual dance that Huntresses weren’t supposed to know, because it damn sure hadn’t been taught at Beacon. Ruby had been dressed in an Atlas Academy T-shirt, but had on her battle skirt and stockings. The T-shirt was slowly brought up over her head, where it briefly got stuck; Ruby’s muffled curse ruined the dance a little bit. But then it was slowly cast aside, hanging off of one arm, and Oscar’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t been the only one who had gone shopping. Ruby wore a red lace bra that left very little to the imagination, and enhanced her rather small bust. 

Once the shirt was off, Ruby stared down at Oscar like a predator at prey, then began shimmying like a snake trying to shed its skin. Slowly, torturously, her dress slid off her hips and puddled at her feet, to be kicked aside. The panties beneath were cut high, barely covering her, and as Ruby rotated in place like a Vacuoan belly dancer, Oscar could see with a nervous swallow the two straps of the panties join, just below the little dimples at the base of Ruby’s spine, to plunge downwards into the cleft of her derriere, leaving both cheeks fully exposed. She turned back to face him. Yang would swear her sister could not look sultry in a week of Sundays, but she would be wrong. Her hands ran down her sides, teased Oscar by hooking her fingers in the panty straps, to move down to the tops of her stockings. They were not the ones Ruby wore into combat, but sheer red ones that gripped her well-formed legs like a second skin. “Would you like me to take 'em off?” Ruby asked, her voice practically dripping with sex.

“N-n-no,” Oscar whimpered. 

“Good.” Ruby then turned to the partition that separated the bunk beds in the middle. She gripped both sides of it, leaned backwards, and promptly slipped and fell. She sprang back to her feet, quickly rearranged herself, and took hold again, this time a bit more firmly. And much to Oscar’s consternation, Ruby began to basically hump the partition, sensuously gliding up and down against it, throwing smoldering looks at Oscar as she unstapped the bra and let it fall away.

“Ruby,” he begged after about two minutes of this, _“please.”_

“Okay,” she breathed. She stopped her dance, slowly dropped to her knees, and grabbed the bottom of his pants. With his help and a bit of effort, she tugged those off, and then quickly took off his socks, since he looked a little weird with them on. Since he’d taken off his shirt already, it left him in only his boxers. Ruby took a moment to admire Oscar’s muscles—growing up on a farm and steady exercises at Atlas, plus running for his life from Grimm, had given Oscar an enviable musculature. But what drew Ruby’s silver eyes was the tent in the front of the boxers. “Mmm,” she hummed. “Is that for me?”

Oscar nodded, unable to speak. Ruby got up to all fours and stalked forward like a cat. She leaned upwards and did not so much kiss Oscar but lick his lips. Then she, more gently, reached down and slid his boxers down just enough to free his member. Oscar was not big, but he was big enough. 

He cupped her cheeks and kissed her, then took off his underwear completely, while she slid off her panties. They looked at each other, naked in the moonlight, smiled, then giggled. She sat back on her heels while he opened the box, pulled out the condom, and rolled it on. Ruby could not stop from laughing: Oscar’s erection now looked like a very angry, tubular porcupine. 

“You wanted this one,” he reminded her.

“It just looks so weird!” 

“Well, don’t get me laughing, or I’ll lose it.”

“Okay, okay.” Ruby snickered once more. “I’ll go up top.”

“Sounds good.” Oscar leaned back, opened the lubricant, and put a generous amount on the condom. His hands were now slick with the stuff, but he figured that would be all right. Ruby positioned herself over him, looked down, and stopped just for a moment. It never ceased to amaze her that she was about to put a part of another human being inside of her. It also never ceased to amaze her that, if they weren’t taking precautions, that act could start a new life inside of her. _Well, maybe someday,_ she thought. _When Salem’s defeated. Maybe then._

“Here I go,” she said softly, and guided him into her. 

Now this really felt strange. She was used to the skin-on-skin feeling as he would fill her, but now there was the odd, yet rather nice feeling of the warm lubricant and the little nubs, which seemed to find just the right spots. Then there was the familiar feeling of her own shaved mound meeting his tangle of black pubic hair. “Mm,” she said. Oscar was completely enfolded in her. She looked down at him. “Okay?”

“You bet.”

She gripped his chest, leaning forward a bit, then moved up and back down. The nubs slid inside of her, sending little electric shocks of pleasure as they did. “Oooh, wow!” Ruby exclaimed. “This is…whoa!”

She began to go a little faster.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Blake said as they walked down the path to the dorm entrance. 

“What? It was awesome!” Yang insisted. She opened the door. “It was totally the thing to do!”

“Wait up!” Both of them turned to see Weiss hurrying towards them. 

“Oh, hey, Weissy,” Yang greeted her. “What’s up? I thought you were staying with Winter tonight.”

“I was, but something came up. Apparently Robyn Hill demanded to see someone from the Atlesian military about that problem with Mantle’s wall.”

“At ten o’clock at night?” Blake asked.

“Yes. That woman seems bent on picking the most inappropriate times!” Winter was fuming. “So Winter and Qrow went down to see what was bugging her. It might take awhile, so Winter told me it would be best if I just came back to the dorm tonight.” Privately, Weiss wondered if Winter was motivated entirely by dealing with Robyn Hill, or it was an excuse to get her little sister out, to have Qrow for herself. Weiss had deduced that both of them were lovers, as disgusting as it sounded. She liked Qrow Branwen, but the idea of him as a brother-in-law turned her stomach. Though he was making an effort to clean himself up, lately. “I thought you two were clubbing tonight.”

“We would’ve been,” Blake grumped, “if _someone_ hadn’t decided to almost cause a riot.”

“I did _not,”_ Yang insisted, rolling her eyes. “Blake is lying like a Mistrali rug, Weiss. Some Atlesian cops were doing spot inspections outside the club. I told them they didn’t have to inspect us, because we’re licensed Huntresses. Then they got all angry for some reason, so we decided to come back here.”

Weiss looked at Blake, since that seemed far too innocuous an explanation. Blake stared daggers at Yang. “No,” the Faunus said, “you said, and I quote, Up yours, pigs, we’re fuckmothering Huntresses, and we can carry weapons into a club if we want, so suck it.’ I won’t demonstrate the groin chop that Yang did next, Weiss, since you can probably imagine it.”

“Most certainly,” Weiss replied, much to Yang’s chagrin, who _was_ about to demonstrate.

“And do I dare mention that you flashed the damn drone that was trying to get a picture?” Blake shook her head. “I can’t believe you did that! Just pulled down your top and showed your goodies to everyone!”

“For…it was a drone, Blake! And there was nobody around except Maria, and she doesn’t care! She thought it was hilarious!” 

“And now your tits are in some Atlesian military database, so everyone can leer at them!”

Yang wiggled her eyebrows as they got into the elevator. “What’s the matter, Blakey? Don’t wanna share?”

Blake folded her arms across her breasts. “Screw you, Yang.”

“But dear, Weiss is right here!”

Weiss hit the button for the third floor. “I’m afraid to ask why Maria was present.”

“She went clubbing with us.” As Weiss’ eyebrows climbed at that, Yang laughed. “Just kidding. We stopped by Pietro’s shop on the way back to say hi to Penny. That drone followed us.”

“Please tell me Penny didn’t see you flash the drone,” Weiss said. Penny Polendina might have the body of a grown woman, but mentally it was somewhat of a different story. Penny would either be scandalized, or worse, try to copy Yang.

“Nah, that was after we left. Maria walked with us to the uplink station.” The elevator doors opened. “Ah well,” Yang sighed. “I guess we can see what Rubes is up to. Maybe it’s something fun.”

“Oh gods, Oscar!” Ruby exclaimed. “Oh gods! It’s soooo good!” She was rocking back and forth now, her hands on either side of his chest, mainly because she kept slipping off before. Oscar’s hands were on her breasts, but they kept slipping off as well, mainly because of the lube on them. Not that Ruby minded.

“Uh, Ruby,” Oscar puffed out. He was pushing into her, but he simply didn’t have the stamina nor speed to keep up with her, and it was all he could do just to hold on. “You’re…getting…loud…”

“Ahhh!” Ruby moaned. “Don’t care! Ohhh, Oscar! Oscar! It’s so good! Ah, it’s so…oh gods…”

Oscar wasn’t sure how he felt about this. Ruby was rarely vocal. She would moan and groan, and occasionally give out a cute little whine of pleasure, but it was usually softly; she had, once or twice, whispered his name as she reached her peak. But she had never been nearly screaming it. He kind of liked it, because he had never quite seen Ruby Rose just utterly lose herself. He just wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed for her or really turned on by it. 

Ruby, for her part, wondered if her brain was going to explode. The nubs were liked hundreds of little fingers finding every pleasure spot inside of her, while the lubricant was warm and wet. Oscar’s calloused fingers were equally warm and wet, and every time they brushed against her stiff nipples, it sent waves of ecstasy straight to her head. Her toes were curled almost painfully, and she could feel the tension building. “Oscar!” she said breathlessly. “Oh gods, I’m almost going to…I’m going to…I can’t…” She grabbed at his head, drew him upwards, and pushed his face between her breasts.

Which meant that Oscar could not hear the approaching footsteps. Ruby, for her part, would not have heard Salem, Watts, Tyrian, Cinder, Neo, and the Wyvern if all of them were crashing through the window. As for the remainder of Team RWBY, none of them heard Ruby’s exclamations of lust because Yang and Blake were still arguing about why Yang had flashed a robot.

Yang slid her keycard through the lock, stuck her tongue out at Blake, and opened the door—just as Ruby hit her peak.

In the sum total of all the orgasms Ruby Rose had ever experienced—ones on her own and those with Oscar—she had never experienced _anything_ like this. Time seemed to just stop, as if Marrow Amin had used his Semblance, and conscious thought ran away like a Grimm was after it. To Ruby, her entire body felt like it had lit up, every nerve synapse firing simultaneously. She froze as the pulsing spread from her groin seemingly through her entire body. Oscar, still pressed wonderfully to her chest, didn’t see the expression on Ruby’s face.

Yang, Blake, and Weiss, however, did.

The sight before them was two naked people, though really all that could be seen was the top of Oscar’s butt, since his head was blocking Ruby’s breasts and his body everything else. There was no doubt as to what they were doing. Ruby's silver eyes were crossed, her mouth open, her tongue lolling out. She didn’t look like she was orgasming so much as making faces at her teammates.

Ruby was oblivious. As the contractions slowed, she leaned backwards to stare up at the ceiling for a moment before her eyes fluttered closed. “Ohhh…fucking… _wow,”_ she said, though she had no idea what she was saying, or even that she was speaking.

Under normal circumstances, the sight of Oscar Pine intertwined and naked with Ruby might cause Yang to explode into a fiery rage and ensure that Ozpin would be reincarnating a lot sooner than anyone thought. Oh, Yang knew Ruby and Oscar were lovers now, but she’d never actually seen them. However, Ruby’s O-face, as it were, and her words, had an unanticipated effect. Yang exploded, all right—into peals of helpless laughter. She laughed so hard she fell to her knees, hanging on to Weiss’ dress. Weiss, for her part, just stared at her friends as if they had become some sort of unbelievable freaks of nature, while Blake’s hands went to her mouth. Then Yang’s hilarity swept into her battle partner, and soon Blake was also on her knees, also gripping Weiss’ dress, and also howling with laughter. 

Ruby came to her senses and opened her eyes, which soon widened hugely at the sight of her teammates, two of which were screaming in mirth and the third standing popeyed in shock. “Oh _shit!”_ she screamed, and did the worst possible thing, which was to instantly stand up. Oscar slid out of her with an audible pop, and unable to quite see what was behind him, also did something stupid and stood up next to his lover. Both of them were now stark naked, Ruby’s skin glistening with sweat and lube, while Oscar—who hadn’t quite gotten to the orgasm stage—was still very erect, the nubbed condom sticking straight out like some horrible alien xenomorph.

Weiss pointed at it. Her mouth moved but no sound came out. Yang and Blake stopped laughing for a moment, saw the condom, and then exploded again, this time losing their grip on Weiss’ dress and collapsing to the floor. Luckily for all involved, Team JNR was out on late night patrol, so Oscar and Ruby were spared that, at least.

“What…the…hell…is…that?” Weiss sputtered out. “Oscar….what…is…”

“Oh my gods.” Yang’s face was beet red, and she was gasping for breath. “I’m gonna die, Blake! I’m gonna die, right here!” 

“Me too!” Blake pounded the floor as another wave of hysterics claimed her. She looked up, and saw Oscar deflating, his hardness fading. “Oh…oh no, don’t…” She struggled to her feet. “Sorry, Oscar…sorry, Ruby…we’ll…snerk…we’ll leave.”

Yang also barely got control of herself. “Yeah…I oughta kill you, Oscar, but…hee…that’s just…” She snorted. “Oh, Rubes, you looked so…you should’ve seen yourself!”

Ruby was indignant. She should be lying in Oscar’s arms, enjoying the afterglow, but instead her stupid sister, her dumbass Faunus lover, and Weiss were ruining the whole thing. She stomped a foot in rage. “Oh, _right._ Like you look any different, Yang! At least I’m not screaming for someone to fuck me raw!”

“You might as well have!” Yang snickered. Then she held up her hands. “Okay…all right. We’ll go downstairs for awhile. Let you two lovebirds finish up. Don’t leave Oscar…hanging…” Then it was just too much. Yang grabbed at the doorjamb and slid back to the floor, her artificial fist leaving dents in the walls as she pounded it in laughter as well.

Weiss shook her head free of shock, grabbed both of her teammates, and dragged them into the hall, coming back to shut the door. “You’ve got half an hour,” she said, then more quietly, “or you could just go to Oscar’s room.” She looked at them again, smiled, seemed to fight back a bit of laughter as well, and closed the door.

“Oh, I don’t _believe_ this,” Ruby snapped. She sat down on Blake’s bed. “Gods. Yang curses like a sailor when she comes, I’ve heard Blake yowl lie a damn alley cat, and Weiss---Weiss frigging _sings_ when she’s jilling off. Like they’re better than me.” She blew an errant strand of hair out of her face.

Oscar removed the condom—it was starting to be a little constricting—and sat next to her. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why? It’s not your fault. Besides…” She leaned on his shoulder. “Oscar…I don’t care how dumb I looked. That was the most incredible thing ever. And _you_ did that to me!”

He smiled with pride. Oscar sometimes felt he wasn’t worth much, that he was at heart just a farmboy who fought with borrowed power, but the fact that he could please his girlfriend made him feel like he’d just wiped out a Grimm horde by himself. “I guess it was kind of funny.”

Ruby shook her head. “Ah, my teammates are jerks. Yang’s never going to let me live this down.” Of course, if Yang’s ribbing got too bad, Ruby mused, she knew more than a few tangy tales of her sister’s antics. She sighed, then grinned at him. “Ah well. Weiss is right. Let’s get our stuff and go back to your room. That way we can have all night.”

“Sure thing.” Oscar started to get up, but Ruby put a hand on his shoulder. She then turned and knelt in front of him. “Before we do, though…” She gently put her fingers on his semi-hard penis. It didn’t stay semi-hard for long. “Let me take care of this.” Then she leaned down and kissed him. 

“Do you mean…” he asked.

She managed to lean back and retrieve the lube bottle. “I do really like strawberries, you know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even when she's being lewd, Ruby's cute. 
> 
> Next up: Qrow Chapter's request. Yeah, about time for some more Snowbird...with maybe an addition. And some Semblances Gone Wild.


	22. Bad Moon Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qrow and Winter go to find out what Robyn Hill is so angry about, but get attacked by Grimm soon after arriving in Mantle. Qrow's wounded, but luckily Jaune is there with his Semblance to help out.
> 
> And of course, this being Qrow Branwen, everything that could go wrong promptly does. At least for everyone around him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the reviewer known as "Qrow Chapter," this one's for you. At first I had a little trouble getting this story going, but once it did...

Qrow Branwen got off the airship at Mantle’s uplink station, where airships departed every ten minutes between Atlas and the city below. He stepped off the stairs, then turned and offered a hand to Winter Schnee. “May I be of assistance, my lady?”

She gave him an icy look. Sometimes Qrow wondered if that expression was on her face when she was born; it would explain her name. “Don’t act weird.” She brushed past his hand and he caught up to her. 

“You’re the one acting weird,” he said quietly. “You’re all peaches and cream when we’re up there—“ he pointed to the bulk of Atlas, hovering overhead and blocking out half the night sky “—but we get on the airship, and you’re back to being Colonel Bitch.”

“And I’m sure it has nothing to do with your crudity.” Feeling uncomfortable at the glare he was giving her, she sighed. “I don’t want anyone to know about us!” she hissed. 

“Winter,” Qrow said, “I don’t think that’s a well-kept secret. Jimmy knows. I bet Weiss knows. Hell, I bet all of Team RWBY knows.”

“That’s fine!” she replied through clenched teeth. “But no one else! I have a reputation to maintain.”

Qrow’s comment on her reputation, which was short and to the point, was cut off by the sudden howl of the Grimm sirens. The streetlights went from their normal soft blue to blood red, warning the residents to get indoors. Instantly Qrow and Winter went to battle stances, Qrow drawing Harbinger and Winter her saber. “Where—“ she began.

“Above us!” Qrow extended Harbinger to its scythe form. Six Griffons flew low above the uplink station in an arrowhead; when they sensed the Hunters below, they peeled off to attack—three coming in from the front, three from behind, forcing Qrow and Winter to split their defense. He stepped forward, making sure Winter was clear, and spun Harbinger. The first Griffon made the mistake of coming in head on, and got a scythe blade through its skull for its efforts. Another underestimated Winter, who shifted to the left, dodged a claw swipe, then lunged with the rapier as the Griffon reared for a bite. Her blade went straight through it, then lit it on fire as Winter activated the Fire Dust in the hilt. 

She cursed herself: she’d be a fraction too slow. As she pulled the rapier free from the dissolving Grimm, she whirled, barely blocking another bite. The Griffon’s maw closed around the blade, and forced her back, almost to her knees as it tried to bite through it. Then the Grimm’s mouth opened and it screamed as a broadsword cleaved its tail off. As it turned, a second strike cut it in half. Winter saw the wielder: it was Jaune Arc. He crouched, sword and shield held ready in the battle stance of a Mistrali warrior. Winter nodded to him with just the briefest of smiles: he’d learned his lessons well from Pyrrha Nikos. He nodded back, then covered her back as she dueled another Griffon. 

Qrow had shifted Harbinger to its shotgun form, blasted a Griffon into oblivion with a point-blank shot, and kept the other one circling as it screamed in frustration. Then he saw Winter out of the corner of one eye. Knowing Jaune was covering her, Winter’s undivided attention was on her opponent. She spun, jumped, twisted in midair, parried, slashed, and riposted. The elder Schnee sister was deadly poetry in motion, and Qrow watched wide-eyed as she dispatched the Griffon. “Whoa,” he breathed.

Unfortunately, watching Winter meant that Qrow was distracted, and the last Grimm sensed it. It suddenly dived at him, and Qrow got Harbinger up to block. He succeeded in stopping one claw, but the other ripped a gash in his leg. He fell with a curse, as the Griffon’s beak got distressingly close to his head. Then there was a soft _thunk_ as something hit the Grimm. The Griffon turned, then exploded. Qrow felt the heat wash over his face.

“Qrow!” Winter shouted. She ran to his side. “You idiot!” She took off her jacket and wrapped it around his leg. 

“Fuck!” Qrow yelled. “Got right through my damn Aura.” That normally would not have happened, but Qrow knew why: it was his damned Semblance. Anything that could go wrong would.

“You’re welcome.” They looked up at a tall woman, with pale blond hair. Robyn Hill folded the crossbow on her wrist back into place. “Good thing I decided not to wait for you two at the police station.” She pulled out her Scroll as Mantle’s lights switched back to blue; it had just been one of the random Grimm attacks that were happening to the city as of late. “Let’s get you an ambulance. That gash looks deep.”

“Wait, hold on.” Jaune set down Crocea Mors, put a hand on Qrow, and concentrated. White lines of power flowed from his hand and spread over Qrow’s body. “What the—“ he began, but Jaune just held on. Qrow felt his Aura gathering at the wound, knitting and healing. He reached down and removed the jacket. His pants and Winter’s jacket were ruined with blood, but the cut was closing even as he watched. Moments later, it was gone completely, with only the tear in his pants leg evidence that it had ever been there to begin with. Jaune pulled back his hand. “Well, I’ll be damned,” Qrow said with a lopsided grin. 

“I’d heard from my sister that you could enhance Aura,” Winter said in amazement, “but never like that.”

Jaune laughed self-consciously. “Well, I am good for something, after all.”

“Indeed so.” Winter helped Qrow to his feet. 

Robyn scanned the sky. “At least the Grimm are gone.” Then she turned her attention to Winter. “And that’s exactly what I want to talk to you about, Colonel Schnee. This is happening almost every other night now! And no sign of the vaunted Atlesian military!”

“What do you call those?” Winter stabbed a finger at a squad of Atlesian Knights. The robots walked down the street, rifles held ready.

“What do I call those?” Robyn repeated. “Useless! _That’s_ what I call them!”

“Ladies, ladies!” Qrow put his hands up. “Maybe let’s not have this conversation outside, huh? Where everyone can hear us?”

“I agree,” Winter said, staring daggers at Robyn. “Shall we go to the central police station?” Robyn looked like she’d rather go to a hanging, but gave a single, angry nod.

Jaune had wisely stayed very quiet. “I’ll…um…I’m going to head back up to Atlas.” He’d already had a long day, herding kids, fending off advances from a veritable horde of admittedly hot moms, and watching Yang nearly start a riot. 

“Probably for the best.” Qrow shook hands with the tow-headed knight. “Thanks, kid. Appreciate the Aura assist.”

“No problem, sir.” Jaune smiled and headed for the uplink station to wait for the next airship.

Qrow followed Winter and Robyn to the police station; he thanked the gods that it was only two blocks away. The two women kept shooting each other baleful glances, and Qrow had a feeling it was only a matter of time before they went at it. To Robyn, Winter represented everything she despised about Atlas in general and the Schnees in particular: icy, distant, uncaring, so military in bearing that her spine seemed ready to snap from coming to attention too often. Qrow knew that wasn’t true—Winter’s cold exterior hid a very kind woman who devoted her life to serving other people, in an effort to compensate for an alcoholic mother and an uncaring father. For Robyn’s part, Qrow knew Winter loathed her: though she actually _did_ want Robyn to beat her father for the Atlas council seat, that was less because of any redeeming qualities Robyn Hill had and more because Winter hated Jacques Schnee even more. To Winter, Robyn was nosy, demanding, rebellious, and self-important. Qrow couldn’t help but smile: in some ways, the two were more alike than either would care to admit.

They reached the police station, and Qrow gallantly rushed forward and opened the door for both of them. Winter gave him another patented ice glare, but he thought he detected the ghost of a smile. Robyn did smile. “Thank you, Mr. Branwen.” She then promptly tripped over the bottom lip of the door and fell full-length on the floor. 

“Oh shit,” Qrow said. “You okay?”

Robyn got to her feet and dusted herself off. “Yeah. Huh. Guess I need to watch where I'm going.” Winter fought down a snicker. 

Though the Mantle constabulary was technically separate from the Atlesian military, a colonel still wielded a great deal of power, and what Winter asked for, she got. They were given an empty meeting room and a pot of coffee; one of the officers helpfully provided a fresh cherry pie as well. Robyn took off her jacket—noting with a grimace that one end was torn a little due to her fall—and helped herself to a slice of pie as she sat. Winter did not: she merely poured herself a cup of coffee. Qrow was worried his Semblance might cause the pie to explode or something, but got him a slice anyway, as it looked too good, and some coffee as well.

“So,” Winter said, tossing her still-bloody jacket aside, “what is so important that you have to meet with us at ten—“ She checked the clock “—eleven o’clock at night?”

“Duh,” Robyn shot back. She sat down next to Qrow, putting him between her and Winter; he wasn’t sure if that was a good idea, since now he was squarely between two warrior women, who might kill him just to get at each other. “Grimm attacks, Colonel. They’ve increased.”

“We’re _quite_ aware of that, Miss Hill. You may have noticed we have tightened the blockade around Atlas—“

“Which is wrecking us!” Robyn cut her off. “Are you aware of what the unemployment rate is around Mantle these days, Schnee?” Winter’s lips curled into a snarl at the derisive use of her name. Before she could respond, Robyn supplied the answer. “Twenty percent and climbing! The blockade is killing us!”

“It’s keeping the Grimm out—let me finish, Miss Hill!” Winter held up a hand. “Yes, there have been Grimm attacks, and they have been increasing. That is worrisome. But we aren’t ignoring Mantle. You notice we’ve tripled our Huntsmen and Huntresses as of late. For every Grimm attack that strikes Mantle, the Atlesian Navy stops three more. You don’t see it because it happens at the frontier, but we _are_ fighting.”

“You’re right that we don’t see it,” Robyn said hotly. “And that’s the problem! Colonel—okay, fine, maybe you _are_ doing something. But if the people of Mantle don’t see it, they feel abandoned. People who feel abandoned by their government get angry, Colonel. They’re liable to do things like start burning things down.”

Winter stared at her. “That sort of thing is not very—“ Suddenly the coffee cup slipped from her fingers, sending coffee spilling across the front of her blouse. Winter screamed, less from pain from the hot coffee—her Aura handled that—but from the fact that the immaculate white tunic was now covered in spreading brown. Qrow, thinking quickly but not really thinking ahead, grabbed a handful of napkins and tried to mop up the coffee. Winter screamed again, this time because all Qrow succeeded in doing was making it worse and accidentally copping a feel in the process. His hand jerked back as if Winter had turned into a Grimm; her hand came up to slap him, but Winter stopped herself: Qrow had been just trying to help. 

Robyn didn’t even try to keep the smirk off her face. “Problems, Colonel?”

Winter turned blazing glacier eyes on the other woman. “Shut up.” She took off her tie—which was also now ruined—and slapped it on the table.

“I’m sorry,” Qrow said.

“For what?” Winter’s words came out harsher than she intended, displacing her anger at Robyn onto Qrow, and knowing she was doing it without meaning to. She mopped at the coffee stain with more napkins, but it was hopeless. She’d just have to have it dry cleaned somewhere. “Now then, Miss Hill, if we have no other interruptions—“

Robyn was bringing her slice of cherry pie to her mouth, but the slice fell off the fork, straight down her shirt, and landed right in her cleavage. “Ack!” she exclaimed. 

“Oh, man. Let me get you a towel or something,” Qrow said helpfully. This _had_ to be his fault. He should probably leave anyway. As he got up, Robyn grabbed the rest of the napkins off the table, and tried to retrieve the piece of pie. As she tried to get to it, her fingers accidentally pulled apart the top button of her tunic. The button popped upwards, and she tried to grab it in midair, but her fingers had gotten tangled in the fabric of her shirt. She swore in frustration and managed to get untangled, but with the rip of cotton, she managed to tear the front of her shirt open even worse. Qrow caught the button, turned, and his mouth fell open. So had Robyn’s tunic, revealing that she had not worn a bra.

To say that Robyn was surprised would be an understatement, because she had been pretty sure that she had put on underwear before she left her house. That was something one tended not to forget, but apparently she had, because her breasts were now on full display. Robyn tended to downplay her feminity to get the rather chauvinist Atlesian bureaucracy to take her more seriously, but Qrow saw that she was actually rather well-endowed, the full breasts topped with pinkish nipples. Qrow got an eyeful before Robyn squeaked and covered herself with her hands. 

Winter had seen it as well, and she also let out something of a squeak, because the only breasts she wanted Qrow to see were hers. She shot out of her seat to grab him, but the belt buckle over her abdomen caught the corner of the table. It dug into the wood, and as Winter tried to get loose, her boots slipped on the puddle of spilled coffee and her feet went out from under her. She fell, but the buckle remained stubbornly caught in the table. There was a horrific tear, and Winter ended falling onto her rear, the entire front of her pants torn into two pieces.

Qrow spun at the noise, and his mouth dropped open even more. Robyn hadn’t been the only female in the Kingdom of Atlas to forget underwear that night. What Qrow didn’t know was that Winter hadn’t actually forgotten: she had deliberately taken her panties off back at her quarters. While Weiss and Qrow had chatted, Winter had ducked into the bathroom and removed her undergarments. Then she had straightened her uniform as she rejoined her sister, announcing that the meeting with Robyn would take some time and Weiss should just return to her dorm. Her plan had been that she would ambush Qrow after the meeting. Well, she had, just not in the manner she had anticipated. Qrow had gotten an eyeful of Robyn Hill above the waist; now he got an eyeful of Winter below the waist, because she had landed with her legs splayed open, her pink folds, topped with the soft fan of white hair, was all there for him to see.

Robyn got to her feet, putting one hand on Qrow’s shoulder for support while the other was still thrown across her breasts. “Are you okay?” she asked Winter, then saw what Qrow was seeing. “Huh,” she stated. “So that’s the Schnees’ natural color, then.”

Winter quickly closed her thighs and leaned over to better cover herself. “Don’t look!” she screeched, rather late. As she leaned over, the zipper on her blouse slid downwards, and Winter’s breasts ballooned outwards. She had, at least, worn a bra, but the titanium white lace strained to hold her bust in place.

“Oh my gods.” Qrow finally found his voice. “Winter. You’re so beautiful. Your breasts…they’re so…wow, I just want to suck on them all day long. And right now I’m harder than Oobleck’s algebra class, and just want to fuck you until you start screaming bad poetry. In fact, if Robyn wasn’t standing right here, I’d probably bang you against the wall. Hell, I’d bang her too, but I bet she’s not into guys, and I don’t know if either of you would be into threesomes. This waitress in Haven was totally into it, but my sister was right there, and—“ The words spilled out in a torrent until Qrow slapped a hand over his mouth. Both women were staring at him as if he had grown a third arm. Winter’s eyes dropped from his face to his crotch, and widened as she saw that he wasn’t kidding about being hard. Robyn, following Winter’s eyes, saw the same thing. 

Robyn abruptly pulled her hand away from Qrow’s shoulder. A faint green glow was emanating from it. “Oh no,” she said. “My Semblance. Mr. Branwen, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” She was turning red, and not just in embarrassment for having her goodies on display, or for Winter’s flash, or for using her Semblance by accident. “That’s really strange. Usually I can control it, but sometimes—“ She took a step back, overbalanced over the chair, and fell backwards. Her red skirt rode up her hips; Robyn had worn leggings rather than pants that night…but at least had remembered to wear panties. Not that they hid a lot, Qrow could see before he tore his eyes away from the sight.

The door burst open to admit Fiona Thyme, one of Robyn’s Happy Huntresses. The sheep Faunus took in the sight—Robyn lying on her back, feet in the air, Winter bent over, both women now very red in the face. In between was Qrow Branwen, trying to cover his erection, which gave Fiona the impression that one or both of the women in the room had kicked him in the crotch, as he had obviously lost his mind and tried to assault both of them. 

“Don’t come in here!” Qrow shouted.

Fiona bared her teeth in rage, reached behind her, and grabbed the staff lashed to her back. As she touched her back, her Semblance activated without warning. Instantly, her clothes disappeared, as her Semblance absorbed the matter, and in a matter of moments, she stood there stark naked. She was kind of cute for a Faunus, Qrow noted in passing, perky in all the right places, but he quickly turned away. Fiona shrieked, trying to cover herself.

“What’s going on—“ Harriet Bree slid to a halt next to the Faunus and pushed her aside. Qrow raised a hand helplessly, waving it, trying to keep her away. Harriet put two and two together and came to the same erroneous conclusion as Fiona. She jumped at Qrow, only to trip over Fiona’s feet and fall down right in front of him. When she landed, the rear of her very tight pants tore open straight down the cleft, revealing to Fiona, Qrow, and the world that Harriet’s uniform was too tight to wear underwear without visible panty lines; going commando, in Harriet’s case, was not a reference to Ace Ops’ normal MOS. 

Qrow rolled backwards over the table, dumping the now lukewarm coffee pot over, which rolled down the table like a flood and ended up dousing Winter’s hair in brown liquid. She let out another scream, followed by a barrage of barracks-room cursing. Qrow huddled in the corner. His Semblance caused him bad luck every day, but never anything like this. He had no idea what could’ve caused it, but then remembered Jaune. The kid might not just be able to enhance Auras, but Semblances as well. He certainly had with Qrow.

“What is all this racket in here? I’m trying to file a damned report, and all I hear is screaming! And now there’s a naked Faunus in the hallway? What kind of police force do you run in this town, Chief Bogo?”

Qrow, pale with terror, recognized Maria Calavera’s voice. “No!” he screamed, his voice about the same pitch as Winter’s. “For the love of the gods, don’t come in here!”

“Oh, shut up,” the former Grimm Reaper said. He could hear her cane thunking against the linoleum as she got closer. “Now what’s with all the caterwauling?”

Qrow slid down in the corner and covered his eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Qrow. And Winter, and Robyn, and Fiona, and Harriet, and...well, hopefully not Maria.
> 
> I was definitely inspired in writing this by the classic anime Golden Boy, the Evangelion "Shinji Ikari Raising" manga (this sort of thing is pretty much standard operating procedure for Shinji in that series), and naturally Qrow Chapter's fantastic idea of Qrow's Semblance gone wild. And I couldn't resist a little Zootopia Easter egg in there.


	23. Holding Out for a Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaune comes home, and Pyrrha's waiting for him. Wait, what? 
> 
> But all it takes is a shield...and five extra seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Renardedefrance, who has been demanding that Jaune and Pyrrha get a happy ending in at least someone's story. 
> 
> Though most of the "Love Hurts" stories are loosely canonical and tied together in the Atlas arc, this is one chapter that isn't...unfortunately. 
> 
> Also, there isn't a lot of story here...this is just pure fluffy goodness.

Jaune Arc walked down the path to his home. Around the path, the woods surrounded him, but they felt welcoming, not crowding. It had been two weeks since he’d been back. Patch was beautiful this time of year. Summer was coming to an end, and with it, the heat was replaced with a pleasant warmth. He was glad he’d moved here. Of course, there were other reasons to move here, but the beauty of the woods was one of them.

He came to a fork in the path. If he went left, he’d go up a hill and come out near a cliffside, where Taiyang Xiao Long lived, and his daughters when they were in. If he went right, he’d come to his home. In the five years since they’d graduated from Beacon, Jaune had visited Ruby and Yang so often that he’d ended up falling in love with Patch. He thought it would be years before he could even think about finding a place, but then Taiyang’s next door neighbor—if two miles could be considered “next door”—had decided to sell her land and move into Patch City. Madame Mallari had moved to a retirement community, and she’d been happy to give Jaune her cabin and her land. It meant getting a loan, but Mallari had sold it for far less than it had been worth. She liked Jaune, and was honored to help out a Huntsman.

Finally, he came through the woods to the little log cabin. Mallari had lived by herself since battle injuries had forced her to retire from her field medical practice, and her needs had been modest. There had been a barn next door, but Yang had torn that down for Jaune, using her bare hands, and now a pleasant little brook ran through that part of the land, partially natural, and partially built by Jaune and his friends.

He walked to the front door and opened it. He stepped inside, setting aside his sword and shield, then taking his boots off. Jaune lifted one arm and sniffed experimentally, then wrinkled his nose. Whew. He could use a shower. Oh well. He looked into the bedroom, the living room, the kitchen, but the house was empty. Curious, he opened the back door, and that’s where he saw her, still as beautiful as she was the first time he’d seen her, nine years ago on that first day at Beacon.

Pyrrha Nikos slid forward in an expert thrust, her shield held steadily by her left arm, while he right extended outwards with the spear. She held the pose for a moment, then stepped backwards into the rest position, then lunged again. _Good,_ Jaune thought, _she’s sweaty too._

Pyrrha had survived the Fall of Beacon—just barely. She’d fought Cinder Fall, the Fall Maiden, to a standstill, but Cinder’s power was ultimately too much. An arrow through her ankle and simple exhaustion had finished her, and as Pyrrha knelt, accepting her death, Cinder had drawn the arrow back, preparing the coup de grace to her opponent. As the arrow fired, Jaune had thrown his shield in front, just enough to deflect the obsidian arrow. It still wouldn’t have been enough, even as he stepped from the locker he’d managed to steer back to Beacon Tower and drew Crocea Mors. Cinder had merely smiled and pointed her next arrow at him, Pyrrha helpless to stop her. It didn’t matter, Jaune remembered thinking: at least he and Pyrrha would die together.

The reason they were still alive was because of the sudden arrival of Ruby Rose a second later. Cinder had been caught off-guard. It was only for a second, but a second was all Ruby needed to swing Crescent Rose. Ruby Rose had gone for Cinder’s head. And that was why she was now Ruby Rose, the Fall Maiden.

Of course, that was all in the far past. The Grimm had been driven back, Beacon had been rebuilt, they’d all graduated—though Ruby hardly needed to, now—and Team RWBY and JNPR had joined dozens of other teams in taking the offensive against the Grimm. The shadowy menace known as Salem was still out there, there were still thousands of Grimm, but Remnant was a bit quieter.

Jaune abruptly noticed that Pyrrha had noticed him. She rested Milo on the ground and smiled at him. “Hello, Jaune.”

“Hello, Pyr.” He stepped out onto the back porch. “Good to see you.”

She walked towards him, with the slight limp that was her souvenir from Beacon. She set Akouo down, then stabbed Milo into the grass. He met her halfway. Her lips were warm and moist. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve only been gone two weeks,” Jaune smiled. 

“Very long two weeks.” 

He kissed her again. And once more, for good measure. “Hmm,” he mused.

“What?”

“Should I take you in a manly fashion right here in the back yard or can we make it to the bedroom?”

Pyrrha made a show of thinking about it. “Well, I _do_ love to make love outside, but I think we might get grass stains. But may I offer a third option?” He nodded. “You smell, my love. So do I. So a shower would seem to be in order for both of us.”

“Talked me into it.” Jaune reached down and picked her up. At Beacon, he would’ve never been able to do this, but five years of being a Huntsman changed all that. She laughed and snuggled into his neck. 

Jaune carried her into the house, kicking the back door shut behind them. “Jaune,” Pyrrha asked, “will you marry me?”

“Sure. If you’re not doing anything five years ago, I’d be happy to marry you.”

She laughed again. “Just checking.” She kicked off her boots, not caring much where they landed. He set her down when they got in the bathroom, and closed the door. He unstrapped his armor and carefully set it down, while she took off her armored shin guards. As she let her belt fall around her now bare feet, she noticed the scarlet sash he wore around his waist. “Oh. So _that’s_ where that went. You’re supposed to ask first, you know. I looked for that for half a day.”

“Sorry, Pyr.” Jaune took off the sash and smelled it before setting it down on a shelf. “It smells like you.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You know what else smells like you?” He knelt in front of her, and began pulling up her skirt, reaching under it to grab the straps of her panties.

“Ohh, no,” she told him, giggling, pushing Jaune away. “Right now, a goat wallow smells like me. Let’s get clean first, and then you can have your way with me, sir.” She dropped the skirt, then reached up and pulled off her top. Jaune’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of her magnificent, perfect breasts bouncing free; she hadn't worn a bra. Well, at least _he_ thought they were perfect. Of course, he loved her. He reached for her, but Pyrrha wagged a finger at him, then finished taking off the circlet and then her panties. Now she stood there naked, putting a hand on one hip. “Well, Mr. Arc. Do you like what you see?”

“I do, Mrs. Arc.” 

“Is there a reason why I’m naked and you’re not?”

“No, there is not.” Jaune had his black shirt off in a moment, but as he got the shirt over his head, he felt her fingers at his belt. “Hey!”

Pyrrha ignored him, pulled his pants down, then burst into laughter as Pumpkin Pete stared back at her from the front of the already tented crotch. He threw the shirt aside and grinned down at her. “I thought you’d get a kick out of that.”

“You’re silly, Jaune Arc.” She pulled off the underwear. His erection sprang upwards. As Jaune stepped out of his shorts, she smiled and kissed the swollen head. “Hello again!”

“You say that every time,” Jaune told her with a laugh.

“I’ll stop doing it when you stop laughing.”

She stood up straight, and now they faced each other, both naked. Pyrrha and Jaune never got tired of looking at each other like this. They both remembered their first night, in the hospital in Vale, when their wounds had healed enough. She’d taken the initative then, slipping into his room, leaving the lights off. It wasn’t a memorable first time, Pyrrha recalled—really, it had been too soon, with her still hurting all over from the fight with Cinder, and poor Jaune not lasting a minute inside of her—but it had been the first time of many times. She reached out and traced a finger down from where his collar bones met, across the thick muscles of his chest, the hard abdominals, the tangle of blond hair above the hardened member, where she stopped. “Shall we get clean and dirty?” she grinned.

“After you.” Pyrrha stepped into the shower, shook her head when he slapped her behind, then he got in next to her. They mutually fiddled with the knobs—Jaune liked his showers a little warm, but Pyrrha liked them hot enough to broil lobster—but finally got the water to an acceptable compromise. She turned, and his hands went immediately to her breasts, and his lips to hers. Pyrrha shook her head. “Now wait just a minute, Jaune. I want to do more than just have sex in this shower.”

“That’s fair.” He grabbed the soap, got a good lather, and began soaping her up. Pyrrha rolled her eyes: Jaune seemed to think her breasts and rear were the dirtiest part of her. “The rest of me, please.” She shuddered wonderfully as Jaune turned his hands to the rest of her body. Soon she was soapy all over. He handed her the soap. “Your turn.”

“Okay.” She soaped him up, but unlike Jaune, was careful to avoid _his_ rear end, because she knew if she started messing around back there, she wasn’t going to be able to stop squeezing. Pyrrha had discovered early on in their relationship that she really, really liked Jaune’s butt. He was just about all lathered up like she was when the soap suddenly shot out of her hands straight up, into a high-arc trajectory that landed with a thunk behind her. “Oh dear,” Pyrrha said with an elaborate sigh, “I seem to have dropped the soap.”

“Gee,” Jaune said, with equally synthetic concern, “whatever shall we do?”

“I suppose I’ll need to get it.” Pyrrha cheeks bulged for a moment as she fought back a laugh, since she knew what was going to happen next. But that was more than fine. She kissed his nose, then slowly turned around, sighed happily, and bent over to make a grab for the soap. At the same time, Jaune made a grab for _her._ His hands gripped her hips, and Jaune slid into Pyrrha in a single thrust. She let out a gasp and looked over her shoulder. “Jaune Arc! I cannot believe this…this uncontrollable lust of yours! Without even warning me!”

He slid out. “Want me to stop?” he smirked.

Pyrrha straightened up and turned around. “Hell no.” She raised one leg, enjoying watching Jaune’s eyes instantly riveted on it—he’d turned out to be something of a leg man—and tucked it behind him, staying balanced on one leg despite the slick surface of the shower. Then she guided Jaune back into her. 

They didn’t say much for awhile, as they made love under the shower, the soap and lather quickly washing into the drain. He kissed at her neck as Pyrrha began making little gasps. She braced herself, but even though she felt herself approaching the peak, she spoke into his ear. “Jaune,” she breathed. “Stop for a minute.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re going to die if we keep trying to do this standing up. I can't keep my balance much longer.”

“Good point.” He pulled out again. “I don’t think I’m going to last long enough to dry off and get back to the bed.”

“I’m definitely not. Sit down.” Carefully, he did so, cross-legged, and Pyrrha gently lowered herself onto him. It was slow torture, Jaune torn between the gorgeous view of his naked, wet wife and the real possibility she could slip and break something he really needed her not to break, ever. But finally they got into position again. “How’s…unf…that?” she asked.

“If we don’t drown, sure.” The water was still cascading down them both.

“I’ve always wanted to make love under a waterfall.” She put her arms around his neck and began moving up and down. Jaune soon realized Pyrrha hadn’t been joking when she said she wasn’t going to last. It didn’t take long before Pyrrha was moaning, tossing her head around, her eyes squeezed shut. “Ah, Jaune…Jaune… _ah!_ ” She suddenly tensed, her breath stopped for a moment, then slowly Pyrrha exhaled as he felt her pulse around him. Jaune hugged her tight as she whimpered into his ear. She relaxed in his arms when she was finished. “Your turn,” she puffed.

“Maybe I’d better pull out,” Jaune said. He abruptly realized that neither was wearing any sort of protection, though he guessed Pyrrha might have already taken care of that on her end.

“No reason to.” She began pressing down on him again, licking his ear. “Come on, Jaune. For me. For me.” He began pushing upwards, his mouth dropping open as his breathing began to get ragged. Pyrrha watched him, smiling. She loved watching him. “That’s it, Jaune. That’s it,” she whispered. “Just like that, my love. Just like—“

“Pyrrha!” Jaune groaned, gave one last thrust, and emptied himself into her. Pyrrha held him close as he had held her. She felt herself beginning to cry, the tears welling up and drifting down her cheeks. She couldn’t hold back a sob.

Jaune was instantly drawing back. “Pyr! What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No, no.” She was smiling through her tears. “You’ve never hurt me, Jaune.” She kissed him tenderly. “I’m not crying because I’m hurt. I’m crying because I’m so happy.”

“Oh, okay.” He kissed her cheeks.

“And because you’re going to be a daddy.”

It took a moment for Jaune to realize what she had said. “Pyrrha?”

She nodded. “I’m pregnant, Jaune.”

He pointed downwards, where they were still joined. “Er, I don’t think…I mean, are you sure?”

Pyrrha hit him on the top of his head, gently. “No, silly. Probably last month or so. But when we get out of the shower, look over on the sink. I took the test this morning.” She shrugged. “I figured either I was pregnant or I was a worse cook than I thought. I’ve been puking a lot since you left.”

That was somewhat true, Jaune thought detachedly, still trying to process the idea that he was going to be a father. Pyrrha was not a good cook. “You’re sure?” he asked.

“I suppose the test _could_ be negative, but where’s the fun in that?” She reached over and shut off the shower, then carefully got to her feet. He did as well, but not before putting a hand on her stomach. It was still quite flat, but he supposed if she was only a month along, he wouldn’t be able to feel anything. “I’m going to be a father,” he said in disbelief.

“Babies come along sooner or later,” Pyrrha replied. He straightened up all the way and kissed her hard. “While I’m _not_ looking forward to more morning sickness, getting fat, and craving peanut butter and pickles, I’m very much looking forward to meeting the little boy or girl we've made.”

“Peanut butter and pickles?” Jaune asked.

“Well, that’s what happened to Nora.” Pyrrha giggled. “I wonder if that’s true that Ren really had to fight off an Ursa when she made him go for ice cream at 3 AM?”

Jaune helped her out of the shower. He ran a hand over her belly again. “Wow.” He looked up at her. “I love you, Pyrrha. I love you so much.”

She bent down and kissed his wet hair. “I love you, Jaune.” She hugged him, crying again, unable and unwilling to stop. 

And they lived happily ever after. Well, until Pyrrha started demanding hot sauce and saltine crackers at 4 AM, anyway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D'awww.


	24. Dinner And a Movie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emerald brings Salem's dinner to her, but finds the Queen of the Grimm angry and frustrated. Emerald thinks it's high time Salem relaxed, and knows just how to do it: a nice, relaxing massage.
> 
> But has Emerald gotten in way over her head? Salem, after all, might get the wrong impression...or entirely the right one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done at the request of Ih60, who requested a scene where Emerald gives Salem a massage.
> 
> This was a lot harder to write than I thought it would be. I got about halfway through, and then had to delete a whole page of writing--it was becoming way too serious, as Emerald began thinking about Cinder, and how she loved Cinder and why, and Salem began to manipulate her and seduce her. It wasn't funny, and in fact was a little sad and creepy--Emerald's had a hard life, and Salem was taking advantage of her. Well, sad and creepy is not what "Love Hurts" is all about, so I rewrote the scene to make it a bit more fluffy and fun. 
> 
> And how the hell did Salem become my favorite character to write?

Emerald Sustrai carefully balanced the food tray as she walked down the darkened hall. In reality, she did not have to do this. She wasn’t sure if Salem needed to eat, though she’d seen the Undead Queen of the Grimm eat on occasion…but she wasn’t sure if that was due to necessity or because Salem happened to feel like it that one day. Mercury Black had used terms like “ass kisser” and “brown nose” when he’d learned of Emerald’s plans to fix Salem some dinner, but she’d pointed out that they were still in the witch’s doghouse, and it might not be a bad idea to stay on her good side. Besides, since they weren’t part of the plan to attack Atlas, there wasn’t much else to do.

She reached the door to Salem’s chambers and raised the curved ring of the knocker. _Wow,_ Emerald thought, _Salem sure has big knockers._

“Who in the purple hell is it?” The voice was snarling, angry.

Despite herself, Emerald felt a shudder run through her body. She was very aware that, after Cinder’s disappearance and likely death, she and Mercury tended to be expendable. “It’s Emerald, Mistress Salem.”

“What do you want?”

“I thought…I thought you might like some food.”

There was a pause. Then the door unlatched and creaked open. “Come in, then.” Now Salem sounded weary. 

Emerald walked into the queen’s chambers, realizing that she’d never actually been into them before. They were spacious, but not ostentatious. There were no paintings on the wall, or jewels or gold leaf. Just a long dresser, a crystal globe of some type, and a canopied bed with purple silk. And a large mirror, one which Salem was staring into. Her hair was askew, not quite in its normal braided halo. As Emerald came closer, Salem let out a scream of rage, and tore her gray hair free of its braids, with enough force that hair and blood came out with it. She then grabbed her hairbrush and hurled it into the mirror, shattering it. Emerald jumped, but somehow kept the tray steady. 

Salem rounded on her, hair falling into odd angles, dark blood dripping to the floor. As Emerald watched in shock, the blood stopped, and the wounds closed. Almost immediately, hair began growing back. “What is _that?_ ” She pointed at the plate on the tray. 

“It’s…it’s what the people in Vale called a hamburger.” Salem raised a black eyebrow. “It’s a meat patty, between two pieces of bread, with an onion.” Emerald wasn’t sure how the castle’s larder remained stocked, but the humans still there ate on a regular basis; perhaps the Grimm were bringing food in every day. “We didn’t have any cheese or bacon, so I had to leave those off…and sometimes there’s lettuce, but we don’t have any of that either.” There was a steaming mug of hot coffee next to the plate. Emerald didn’t think coffee and hamburgers were good combinations, but it was either that or water; there was no soda fountain in Salem’s realm.

“Fine.” Salem reached out a hand, and took the tray. “Perhaps food will settle me.” She glanced at the broken mirror, waved a hand, and it reformed itself. She took a sip of the coffee, then began eating. Taking Salem’s sudden silence as dismissal, Emerald gave a sort of bow and curtsey, and began to leave.

“Wait.” The undead queen’s voice stopped her in her tracks. “Emerald…this is…actually quite good.” The former thief turned to Salem, who had taken two big bites from the hamburger. She regarded Emerald, and to the latter’s surprise and relief, smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Emerald hesitated. “May I ask…what’s wrong?”

Salem set down the hamburger and sighed. “You may as well. Plans in Atlas are not going as quickly as I would like. The Relic of Knowledge is still beyond my grasp, and now it seems the Spring Maiden is dying, but there is no one close to seize the power for me. Which means it will go to that uptight prig Winter Schnee.” Salem slumped on the stool she sat on. “We haven’t suffered another defeat by any measure, but…nor are we winning. It’s quite frustrating.” Then she looked upwards. “And for some reason I can’t seem to do a thing with this hair.”

“Would you…do you want me to?” Emerald asked hesitantly. 

“No, that’s fine. This meal is sufficient.” She sat back up straight, and Salem’s back audibly popped. “Ouch.”

Emerald was surprised at that: Salem could actually feel pain. Her surprise showed on her face, because Salem nodded. “Yes, I can hurt. In fact, I hurt frequently. I just can’t die.”

“I could give you a massage.” The words were out of Emerald’s mouth before she realized it. 

Both eyebrows went up this time. “I thought you were a thief, not a masseuse.”

“I actually used to work in a massage parlor.” The latter was a bit of a lie. She’d _lived_ at the massage parlor, as it made good cover for a thief, and the parlor owner didn’t mind how the rent was paid. A client—or in Emerald’s eyes, a target, a mark—would come in, strip, and be lulled to sleep by her massage. They were then relieved of their valuables, something small they would not miss for awhile. And because of Emerald’s Semblance, she always looked different each time. The trick only lasted half a year, before she’d been thrown out; the parlor got a reputation as a thief’s haven. Still, it had kept her going for quite awhile, until Cinder Fall had recruited her.

“I’ll bet,” Salem said, with a patronizing smile.

“Nothing like that,” Emerald assured her. Which was true; Emerald had never been forced to use her body to survive. She _had_ used it to steal, but that was her choice. “I’m really quite good, Mistress Salem.”

Salem wolfed down the hamburger, slugged back the coffee, and stood. “Oh, why not. I’m bored and you can make yourself useful.” The Queen of the Grimm walked over to the bed, took off her cape, and sat. She loosened the collar of her cloak, enough to expose her neck and shoulders, and lay down, pillowing her head on her arms.

Emerald sat on the bed next to her, and began kneading the witch’s shoulders, working her fingers into the pale skin. She could feel the tautness in the muscles. “Wow, you are _tense,”_ Emerald commented. 

“I’ve a lot to make me tense.” 

“Well, you should try to relax some. When you’re tense like this, you get frustrated easily, and then you make mistakes.” Emerald used the balls of her thumbs to work on the barely visible strip of Salem’s upper spine.

“Did they teach you that in masseuse school?”

Emerald laughed despite herself. “No. The street. When you’re a thief, and you’re all tense, cops notice it. They wonder why. But if you’re relaxed, laid back—you can go anywhere. People don’t notice you, because you belong, and they’re too wrapped up in themselves anyway.” She went back to the shoulders, this time her fingers using light, feathery touches just at the surface of the skin. “And if you’re stiff, people notice when they turn up missing things. Here…let me work on that hair a little.” Emerald took a comb from her pocket and straightened the tangles in Salem’s hair. There were a few rips and Salem grunted, but she worked it out. “You’ve got really nice hair, you know? You should leave it down more often.”

“Perhaps.” Salem smiled. It _did_ feel good. Emerald had not been boasting. 

“Oh, and by the way…” Emerald reached forward, dangling one of the jewels that normally hung off Salem’s braids in the witch's face. “Just a demonstration,” the thief said quickly, wondering if she’d stepped over the line. 

Salem peered at it, then laughed. “Well done, Emerald Sustrai! You may keep that. I am indeed impressed. Now I know why Cinder recruited you, besides your skills as a warrior.”

Emerald set down the jewel. “I’m a better thief, honestly.” She stopped her ministrations. “Um, do you mind loosening your cloak a bit more? It sounds like your back could use a little work.”

Salem gave a nod, and made a gesture with her fingers. Her cloak seemed to fade away, leaving the witch naked. Emerald swallowed at the sight. She’d always knew Salem had a pretty good figure for someone who was millennia old, but other than the bone-white skin and the spidery black veins that ran across her back, buttocks and legs, she was gorgeous. Trying to control her suddenly hammering heart, Emerald’s hands worked on Salem’s flanks. She concentrated on the matter at hand. Salem’s back was as tensed up as the rest of her. “Okay,” she breathed, “this might hurt a little.”

“All right.” Then Salem winced as Emerald ground her elbow into the witch’s spine. It did hurt, but the pops and cracks of her vertebra, and the instant lessening of pain around them, made the temporary pain worth it. Then Emerald returned to using her fingers, working the knots out; she suppressed a gulp of fear, as the black veins seemed to pulse under her touch. Salem, however, was almost purring, so clearly she was doing it right. 

“Hey,” Emerald suddenly asked. “Do you do…y’know…anything for _fun?”_

“Fun? Why?”

“Can I be honest with you?” Emerald knew she was probably stepping over the line, and it might cost her a limb or even her life, but it had been bothering her for awhile. And thieves got bored too. 

“I suppose,” Salem replied.

“You never really seem to cut loose. Just have fun. Do things just for the hell of it.”

“Oh?” Salem asked with a smile. “And your thievery was just ‘for the hell of it,’ then?”

“Sometimes. After Cinder found me and got me into her gang, I still stole. Not because I needed to—I’m not like that—but because it was fun. Nothing like relieving some rich bastard of their lien.” Now the legs. Emerald took a breath and began massaging those as well. This seemed a little more intimate. The calves and feet, not so much, but the thighs. She averted her eyes at what lay beneath the perfectly-formed rear, against the purple silk of the bed. Had this been a mark, nudity would not have bothered her, but this was not a mark, and Emerald was surprised that Salem, undead or not, was turning her on a little. Then again, it _had_ been a long time.

“Fun,” Salem mused. “I create Grimm,” she said at length.

“Yeah, but is that really fun?”

“Sometimes.” Salem could hear the lie in the word, and she imagined Emerald could too. Though creating new Grimm like the Beringal was indeed fun, it was sometimes such a chore. “What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know. Like a game. Not this thing you have with Ozpin or whoever. Just…something fun.”

“I play chess.”

Emerald didn’t know how to play chess, and wasn’t that interested in learning. Too many rules. “No, no. Just…I don’t know…fun.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. Fun for me is a rousing game of chess, or perhaps a good book, or destroying an Atlesian warship or two. What do you consider fun, Emerald?” Suddenly Salem turned over, and Emerald stopped cold. She’d never seen Salem naked before, and just like her backside, everything was perfect. Her breasts were large but seemed to need no support; the junction between her thighs was smooth as the silk they lay on. The fact that the slit there and her nipples were a dark shade of gray made them no less appealing. “Was _this_ what you consider fun?”

“Um…ah…” Emerald realized she was in way over her head. She liked girls, of course: Cinder had been more than a mentor and rescuer, but a lover as well, even if Emerald was sure her affection for the Fall Maiden was not really returned. Cinder saw sex as a weapon, and her occasional dalliances with Emerald were mere distractions. Emerald was too street-smart not to sense that, but she had loved Cinder all the same. There had been no others since then. Mercury was tempting, but Emerald had never really clicked with men.

And Salem was clicking with her, big time. Worse, the witch clearly knew it. A pale tongue came out between the bloodless lips, licking them, and a hand gently slid up the perfect thigh. The invitation was there.

But Emerald was terrified. Making love to Cinder was one thing, but this was the Queen of the Grimm. What if she was terrible at it? What if she displeased Salem? What if Salem snapped her neck by accident? Emerald’s mouth was dry, but it wasn’t entirely with lust; there was a healthy amount of fear there as well. She wanted Salem, but she was also scared of her. She’d seen what Salem had done to Hazel. What if she was into tentacles or something? Maybe she was into S&M. Maybe she wanted to spank Emerald. Or worse, maybe she wanted Emerald to spank _her._ That would just be weird. 

Salem was watching the play of emotion on Emerald’s face and enjoying every second of it. The thief was actually quite good at hiding her emotions, but someone who had faced down gods and was millennia old learned how to read people very quickly. The witch opened her thighs just a little, almost casually. Emerald’s fear was palpable, but it would be overwhelmed by lust. Slowly but surely, Salem was seducing the young woman. Salem herself enjoyed the pleasures of all manner of humanity and Faunus, and watching the resistance in Emerald’s eyes begin to fade, seeing the reluctance giving way—yes, this was indeed fun.

Which was why Salem was taken utterly by surprise when Emerald hit her in the face with a pillow. 

Emerald was desperate. One part of her—several parts, actually—wanted to tear her clothes off and dive between those thighs, to give in to the lust spreading from her belly. But another was too scared, and actually too loyal to Cinder. Cinder might not love Emerald, and was probably dead—but Emerald loved her, and never could quite bring herself to believe that the Fall Maiden was filling a pit somewhere. Her reddish eyes had fallen on one of the pillows, and before she knew it, she had hit Salem in the face to break the spell.

She brought the pillow back up, revealing a look of complete shock on the witch’s face. The open mouth turned into a thin line, and the blood red, glowing eyes narrowed. _I’m dead,_ Emerald thought. 

Then Salem slowly smiled. “So that’s the way it is.” Another pillow suddenly rose from the bed and drifted to her hands. Then she swiftly smashed Emerald in the chest. Emerald toppled off the bed, but with a thief’s reflexes, rolled to her feet. She grinned and leapt at Salem, bringing the pillow down. Salem blocked and hit her again, but Emerald’s riposte actually knocked _her_ off the bed. The thief stood triumphantly on the bed. “I’m queen of the castle!”

Salem looked up from the floor. “Oh?” A wave of the hand, and Emerald was suddenly nude "A naked queen, then."

The thief looked down, over her tanned body, then raised an eyebrow at Salem. “Really?” 

“Well, _I’m_ naked. It was only fair.” Salem got to her feet. “A pillow fight. I haven’t had one of those…in a very, very long time.” She set down the pillow. “You know something else I would like to do, Emerald Sustrai?”

_Uh oh,_ Emerald thought, as Salem took a step towards her.

“Oh, you should have seen him, Emerald,” Salem said. She leaned against one of the bed’s posts, the other girl’s foot in her lap. “Ozma was _such_ a hunk. And he was modest, too.” She held up the foot for her inspection. “How’s that?”

“Yeah, I like it.” Emerald inspected her toenails, which were now a shade of, well, emerald. It was a darker shade than her green hair, but they glittered. Neither woman was naked now; both were in filmy pajamas, conjured by Salem’s magic. Emerald had never worn something so nice. “You want me to do yours? I mean, not _everything_ you have has to be black or purple, Salem.” She’d dropped the ‘mistress’ at Salem’s insistence.

“No, that’s all right. Part of my curse is that it fades by the next morning.” She inspected her fingernails. They would always be black. 

“How about your hair?”

“Oh…why not.” Salem got up, scooted over to where Emerald sat crosslegged on the bed, and turned her back to her. “What were you thinking?”

“A long braid.” She began braiding Salem’s hair. “My mom used to…well. Never mind. You were saying about Ozma?”

Salem knew Emerald was changing the subject, but let it go for now. After all, they were enjoying themselves. After putting the pillows away, Salem had offered to let Emerald try on clothes. Since all Salem owned were cloaks and capes, she used magic instead, and Emerald hadn’t minded being the witch’s dress-up doll. Every outfit she’d ever wanted was conjured up; she’d looked rather fetching in the red dress Cinder had worn at Beacon. Then, once they were in their pajamas, Salem had painted her nails, and they had talked about a myriad of things, mostly mundane. Rapidly, Emerald had discovered that Salem liked to talk about her first love. “He was hunky?” Emerald asked.

“Like you wouldn’t believe. Abs you could bounce a quarter off of. His back muscles…oh, dear, they made the girls fall over.” Salem looked conspiratorially over her shoulder. “And oh, my, was he _hung._ Maybe a little too big.”

Emerald kept braiding. “Like I said, I like girls. Guys just tend to think with their dicks, you know?”

“Sometimes, yes. But Ozma would change your mind, Emerald. That first night we were together…well, as you say, never mind.” Now Salem was dredging up bad memories. Thinking about Ozma led her inevitably to when she’d killed him. “Do you play cards, Emerald?”

“Cards? Oh hell yes. Poker, Mistral Hold ‘Em, bridge, you name it. I’ve cleaned out many people like that.”

“Mm. Hazel plays cards as well. Perhaps we should get Mercury in for some hands some night.”

“That would be cool.” Emerald wrapped the bottom of the braid. “There. How’s that?”

Salem got up off the bed, and turned in place. Her gray hair now fell in a simple braid to the small of her back. “I rather like that.” She saw Emerald try and fail to suppress a yawn. “It is getting quite late for you, my dear.”

“Yeah…sorry.” She got up off the bed as well. “Can I keep these?” Emerald tugged at the pajamas. 

“Of course.”

She gathered up her clothes, and smiled at Salem. “Hey. Thanks. That was…fun.”

“It was,” Salem agreed. “You were right. It does feel good to…cut loose, now and then.”

“Anytime. Good night.” Emerald gave a little bow and began walking towards the door.

“Good night.” Salem sat back on the stool, and her smile became playful. “Oh, Emerald?”

The thief turned at the door. “Yeah?”

Salem made a pistol out of her thumb and index finger, and pointed at Emerald, who looked back with a quizzical smile. “Boom.”

Emerald’s eyes went wide. She gasped, bent over, her hands dropping her clothes as they went involuntarily to her crotch. Dark nipples stiffened instantly through the sheer fabric. “S-Salem…what…”

Salem made a show of cocking her ‘pistol,’ and ‘fired’ again. This time Emerald slumped to her knees, mouth falling open, her eyes rolling back. “Gods…ahhh…”

“I think you needed that,” Salem told her, as it took every bit of Emerald’s willpower not to simply fall over on the floor at the sensations flooding her body. Salem watched with amusement as Emerald staggered to her feet, and half-walked, half-crawled from the chamber. She thought about blasting the young woman again, but it might be enough to make her pass out, and that might be awkward.

Once she was sure Emerald had gotten back to her room, Salem stared in the mirror, the smile still on her lips. “You’ve still got it, girl.” Then she jumped to her feet, clapped her hands, magicked her cloak back on, and walked briskly out of the castle. She had an idea for a new Grimm.


	25. Ship Happens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pyrrha is going to die. Cinder stands in front of her, bow ready. But Pyrrha has one weapon left, one last card to play. 
> 
> No, you're not reading "Tales of Remnant" by mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got this idea of continuing the rather silly "Pyrrha's Last Gambit" chapters in "Tales of Remnant" to their illogical conclusion. The problem was, I wasn't sure how to end it. And then things got weird...

The arrow thudded into Pyrrha Nikos’ ankle, slicing through Aura, flesh and tendons. The Invincible Girl of Mistral went down hard, biting back a scream of agony. 

She had to get up. Pyrrha knew, in this fight, the advantage shifted in a matter of milliseconds. She tried to get to her feet, but pain shot up her leg, and she fell to her hands and knees. Pyrrha struggled again to get up, but the pain was too much, and she was simply exhausted. She heard footsteps approaching, the light footsteps of Cinder Fall. Pyrrha involuntarily slumped. She was going to die.

But then again, she’d known that the moment she kissed Jaune Arc goodbye, for the first and last time.

Cinder slowly walked in front of her. There was a slight limp in her step, a bit of a wince in the expression; Pyrrha, despite being outmatched, had hurt her enemy. She could take some small comfort in that. Cinder might kill her, but as Yang would say, Pyrrha had made her earn it. There was even a bit of pity in the yellow, burning eyes.

“It’s unfortunate you were promised a power that was never truly yours,” Cinder said. She knelt and lifted Pyrrha’s chin, and smiled. “But take comfort in knowing _I_ will use it in ways you could never have imagined.”

_It’s not over yet,_ Pyrrha thought. There was still one weapon left, one last chance she could try. It was insane, it was dangerous, and she was probably going to die anyway. But she had to try. “Do you believe in destiny?” she asked Cinder.

Cinder frowned. What kind of question was that? “Yes,” she answered, and drew back, bringing her bow up, knocking the obsidian arrow that would end Pyrrha Nikos’ life.

And that was when Pyrrha struck.

She lunged forward, taking Cinder completely by surprise, ignoring the white-hot pain that shot from her ankle to her spine. She pushed the bow aside, grabbed a handful of Cinder’s hair, and crushed her lips against the Fall Maiden’s. To say Cinder was taken by surprise would be an understatement, like saying Ruby liked cookies. She’d been expecting a last desperate attempt to dodge by Pyrrha, not an attack.

Pyrrha had just the briefest opening, and did not allow Cinder to regain the initiative. She forced her tongue between Cinder’s teeth, tasting the other girl’s tongue, the slightly bitter taste of saliva tinged with blood from the fight. 

As a rule, Pyrrha didn’t go for girls. She knew other girls looked at her, as the Invincible Girl had a body that would make a stone idol come howling off its perch, make a cleric forget their vow of chastity, and make even the straightest girl question her sexuality. But looking was one thing; Pyrrha herself never had more than an idle thought for another woman’s body. Cinder, on the other hand, had both male and female lovers in her past, as she regarded sex as recreational, something to do when it suited her quest for power or just to pass the time. Thus both of them were taken by surprise at Pyrrha’s passion.

_What the hell?_ Cinder thought in amazement. _Why is she kissing me? And tongue? Whoa. Not bad, but I really need to kill her and get going…_

Pyrrha felt the resistance, and knew she had to press her advantage; if she gave Cinder time to think about what was happening, she was dead and she’d never see Jaune again. She grabbed the red ties to the front of Cinder’s dress and pulled them free, still licking her enemy’s lips. A jerk of both hands, and Cinder was exposed to the waist, her breasts free to the cool air atop Beacon Tower. Pyrrha’s gloved hands reached up and gently cupped the breasts.

Cinder pulled back from Pyrrha’s kiss. “What…what are…”

“Shh,” Pyrrha said. “Do you believe in destiny?” she repeated.

“Well, yes, but—“

“This is our destiny. We are the Fall Maidens,” Pyrrha whispered. “We must complete each other. Weren’t you told?”

“Um…no idea what you’re talking about—“ Cinder tried to get out, but her eyes widened as Pyrrha’s fingers worked her nipples erect. “But…well…I’m not…I just…” Pyrrha licked Cinder’s neck, one hand still on the Fall Maiden’s left breast, the other hiking her skirt up to scrabble at the black panties. Cinder gasped as Pyrrha’s fingers dipped past the black curls of her pubic hair to the little nub atop her folds. 

The bow fell from nerveless fingers. Conscious thought fled from Cinder’s mind as the heat flared between her legs. Suddenly, nothing mattered but pressing herself into those fingers. Her own hands reached up to pull at Pyrrha’s armor. Both of them were now practically panting, and between them, they got the battered chestplate off, the burned leather falling to land atop Cinder’s discarded bow. Pyrrha knew that she should’ve escaped or rendered Cinder unconscious the moment her opponent had dropped the bow, but now she was too far gone with lust herself. Both women had been tired, exhausted, keyed up, and frustrated. Pyrrha knew what love was but had foolishly kept herself from consummating it, and Cinder had never known the touch of someone who actually cared about others. 

Before either of them knew it, they were on their knees, less kissing than trying to devour the other, their breasts pressed against each other. Somewhere along the way, Cinder’s panties were drawn off, and Pyrrha’s skirt ended up around her knees. Hands quested for each other’s intimate areas, fingers dipping inside to find wetness. Thoughts of power were gone from Cinder’s mind; thoughts of Jaune were forgotten in Pyrrha’s. All that mattered was the sweltering heat both women were generating in each other, heat that demanded a release.

So lost were they in each other that neither noticed they were being watched. Cinder opened her eyes just a little as Pyrrha began licking at the hollow between her breasts, to see Ruby Rose standing there, silver eyes wide. She had no idea where the girl had come from; surely Ruby couldn’t run up sheer walls. 

“P-Pyrrha?” Ruby stammered. She rubbed her eyes. There was no way Cinder Fall and Pyrrha Nikos should be nearly completely naked, locked in a passionate embrace. And there was no way that she, sweet, innocent Ruby Rose, should be tempted to join them.

“We’re being watched,” Cinder whispered to Pyrrha, who glanced over her shoulder. “Ruby,” Pyrrha said, “you shouldn’t see this.”

“Or you could join us,” Cinder chuckled evilly. “There’s room for one more.”

“N-no…” Pyrrha moaned as Cinder’s fingers pressed upwards inside. “She can’t…”

“She can. And she _will.”_ She licked her lips at Ruby and gestured forward with her free hand. 

Ruby staggered forward, dropping Crescent Rose, her fingers working at the strings of her corset, unable to resist the siren call of lust

The door to the Author’s room was abruptly kicked in. Cinder Fall stomped in and slammed down the script for “Episode XXVI: Ship Happens” of _Love_ Hurts onto his desk. “What the hell is this shit?” she demanded.

“What?” the Author responded. 

“Bad enough you write Salem as a frustrated drunk. Or imply there’s something between me and Emerald. We’re just good friends, you perv—“

“Oh, right,” the Author argued. “Like the FNDM didn’t notice how you two look at each other—“

Cinder stabbed at the script. “Shut up, you hack!” She looked over her shoulder. “Get in here, Pyrrha! You’re part of this!”

Pyrrha entered the room hesitantly and looked around. “Oh wow, I’ve never been in here. This is nice.” She ran her hands over the _Spice and Wolf_ wall scroll. “Oh, how cute!”

“Focus!” Cinder shouted. 

“I’m sorry,” Pyrrha said. She walked forward. “Mister Author, sir, no offense, but my death scene is iconic! It’s part of the RWBY story. You can’t turn it into smut.”

“Yeah,” Cinder agreed. “And I damn sure wouldn’t be overcome by lust! I want power, dammit! I don’t care if I kill Pyrrha to get it! She’s supposed to die. That moron Jaune will never have character development if I don’t turn Pyrrha into dust like a much cuter Thanos!”

Pyrrha faced her. “Now just a moment, Cinder. You know that a lot of fans disagree with that assessment. They pointed out that Jaune and I could develop alongside of each other. I didn’t really have to die—“

“Screw you! That was an awesome scene! It made the FNDM cry!” Cinder turned to the Author. “Look, I don’t mind if you let Pyrrha get me off first, but I’m gonna kill her, and there’s nothing you can do about that.”

“Whoa,” said the Author, “you really _are_ evil.”

“Uh, excuse me?” Cinder folded her arms over her breasts. “I prefer the term _ethically challenged,_ you hater.”

Pyrrha sighed. “Mister Author, if I have to die and that’s my destiny, I guess I understand, but really, let me go out with some dignity. This…this…I don’t know what to call it…it doesn’t seem right.”

“Well, I _did_ kill Jaune in _On RWBY Wings,”_ the Author pointed out, totally not plugging his epic fanfic, now found in almost its entirety on AO3. “So there’s nothing saying you have to die.”

“Oh, this is bullshit.” Cinder rolled her eyes. 

“Wait, you killed _Jaune?”_ Pyrrha exclaimed. She grabbed the Author and shook him. “How could you? You _monster!_ Sweet, innocent Jaune…” Pyrrha began to cry, even as she began strangling the Author.

She had closed the door behind her, but now it was kicked open again, this time by Ruby. The diminutive reaper stalked in, and slammed her script on top of Cinder’s copy. “Hey, you jerk! I can’t believe you’re going to write me in a lesbian three-way with Pyrrha and this bitch—“

“Hey!” Cinder snapped. 

“—and yeah, Pyrrha! Choke him! This is _filth!”_ Then Ruby saw all the fanart on the Author’s wall. “Oh, neat! You’ve got Belldandy! And Naga! And is that Saeko? She’s so cool!” She was quickly distracted by shiny things.

Pyrrha abruptly let go of the Author, realizing that if she killed him, not only would it be weirdly meta, it would also ensure there were no more chapters of _Love Hurts,_ and Pyrrha had really liked the one where her and Jaune had lived happily ever after. “I’m sorry,” she said as the Author coughed and massaged his throat.

The door opened again, to admit Yang, whose hair was blazing and whose eyes were bright red. “You bastard! What’s this I hear about my sister ending up scissoring with Cinder?”

Cinder seized her copy of the script. “Really? I hadn’t read that far ahead…”

Yang grabbed the Author and pulled him out of his chair. “You damn slop artist! I’m gonna _kill you!”_

“Wait, wait!” the Author pleaded. “If you kill me, I can’t write another chapter in the Lusty Adventures of Blake and Yang!”

Yang had drawn back Ember Celica for a punch, but she slowly lowered her hand. “Oh yeah. That’s true.”

Blake stuck her head through the doorway. “Yang, don’t kill him! Over in _On RWBY Wings_ I get to fly a F-14, and I’m really digging that, and…oh, good. He’s not dead.”

Next was Weiss. “Is there some sort of script meeting going on?” She pushed her way past Yang. “Don’t let go of him yet, Yang.” Weiss poked the Author in the chest. “Hey. You’ve written a ton of fics with these two morons—“ she pointed at Yang and Blake, who both gave the former heiress the finger “—but I haven’t had a chapter in awhile.”

“You’re actually up in the next rotation!” the Author said quickly. “Yeah! I got some action with Jaune and maybe Ruby!”

Ruby turned at the sound of her name. “Wait, I get to make out with Weiss?”

“I hadn’t really decided yet, but there’s no White Rose in this fic yet—“

“Hmm. Might be fun.” Ruby stuck her tongue out at Weiss, who looked nauseated. 

Penny Polendina looked in past Blake. “Oh, are we having a meeting? My understanding was that I was going to get a chapter soon as well.” Her eyes briefly flickered with the power of the Winter Maiden. “After all, I’m a real girl now.”

Cinder looked up in alarm. “Say _what?_ ”

The Author put his hands up. “Okay, okay!” he yelled. “Look, I’m going to get to your chapters. And whatever else the readers come up with.”

Ruby looked on the notepad the Author kept by the desk. “’Idea for chapter: Oscar uses the Long Memory as a vibrator.’ Hey, that might be fun too.”

“That’s not gonna fit,” Yang put in.

“ _Shut up!”_ the Author shouted. “Like I said, I’ve got some ideas, but I have to finish this chapter! And then I have to get on the next chapter of _RWBY Wings!_ And I can’t write anything with half the main cast in my room!”

“Most girls he’s ever had in this room,” Cinder said under her breath.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Cinder quickly replied. She did have to watch herself. Over in _RWBY Wings,_ the Author had set her head on fire.

“Everybody but Cinder and Pyrrha out of the room. Ruby, you’re not in the scene. I got a little carried away. I’m sorry. I’ll write something sweet with you and Oscar, okay?”

“Okay!” Ruby skipped out. She liked her chapters, especially the ones with Oscar. Well, maybe not the chapter where she’d gone berserk with lust due to corrupted cookies; that had been just weird.

Yang pointed at the Author. “You better have something good for Blake and me.” She made a throat-cutting gesture and left, dragging a waving Blake with her. The Author didn’t want to admit that the next chapter with those two in it might involve Adam Taurus. Weiss pulled Penny out, who was making come-and-get-it-bitch gestures at Cinder. 

Finally, it was just the Author, Cinder and Pyrrha. “Right,” the Author sighed, sitting down in his chair. “So we’re at a bit of an impasse here. Cinder wants power, and Pyrrha would prefer not to die again.” Both women nodded. The Author did the same and turned back to his computer. “Let’s try this...”

Jaune Arc climbed to the top of Beacon Tower, having been propelled there by a combination of Weiss’ glyphs and Ruby’s Semblance. He rolled over the remains of the parapet, bringing up his shield and sword.

“You’re too late!” Cinder Fall cackled. She stood, one foot up on the remains of Ozpin’s desk. Jaune started forward, but she held up a finger. “Careful, Huntsman.” Her other hand was twisted in the red hair of Pyrrha Nikos. Despite the situation, Jaune breathed a little easier. Pyrrha was battered and bruised, but she was still alive. 

“Jaune,” she moaned. “Run…she’s the Fall Maiden…she’ll kill you too.”

Jaune did not reply. He simply raised Crocea Mors a little higher. Cinder might kill him, but at least he and Pyrrha would die together. That would be worth it all. And if he remembered his lessons with Pyrrha and those from Professor Port, Cinder didn’t look all that great herself. She was low on Aura, if she even had any left. He readied for one charge. There wasn’t that much space; he might could make it in a quick run…

Cinder shook her head. “I know what you’re thinking, Jaune Arc. Only ten yards separates us. You’re thinking you could run me through before I incinerate you. And you might be right…but you won’t run me through before I incinerate _her.”_ To his horror, Jaune saw little tendrils of smoke begin curling up from Pyrrha’s hair. 

“Leave me, Jaune,” Pyrrha pleaded. “Please.”

“I can’t!” Jaune cried.

“Ah, love,” Cinder said mockingly. “Then I shall make you a deal, Huntsman. I will spare both you and Pyrrha… _if_ you kneel before me and service me.”

“Service you?” Jaune asked.

“Make love to me, Jaune Arc,” Cinder snarled. “If you please me, you both may live. If you don’t, I will spare your life…but not hers.”

“Please, no,” Pyrrha begged. She winced when Cinder merely tightened her grip.

“Stop!” Jaune said. He set down his shield and Crocea Mors. “Okay. I’ll do it. Just don’t hurt her.” 

Cinder licked her lips and began to laugh, ~~evilly~~ in a ethically challenged fashion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh heh. Sometimes it's fun to break the fourth wall. I wonder what the characters of RWBY really would think about some of these fanfics we write. 
> 
> And yes, all the ideas I mentioned are ones that I will probably write in future chapters. Assuming I don't get any more ideas from you folks...which I hope I do.


	26. I Kissed a Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Yang and Blake head out to do some clubbing, Weiss finds herself oddly envious of her friends' relationship. She doesn't have anything like that in her life, and she's kind of bored. And curious.
> 
> And Ruby is in the bed above...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, a little White Rose action for once. Sort of.

“Blake,” Yang said with a sigh, “I love you, you know that?”

“Yes, it’s been discussed,” Blake answered. 

“Well, can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“You can’t dance.” Yang demonstrated the steps of the latest dance popular in Vale, and they supposed, Mantle. Then she motioned to Blake to emulate her, again. Blake tried, and while she might be a teenaged ninja Faunus catgirl, she was no dancer. Her gyrations looked more like she was having some sort of a fit. Helplessly, she looked at Ruby and Weiss. Ruby was no help; she was reading a comic book and munching on chips. Weiss simply looked at Blake with pity, as if Blake was a drowned kitten. Of course, Weiss was also professionally trained in dancing. 

The Faunus sighed as well. “So I can’t dance. It’s not like I had a chance to learn, running around with the White Fang and Adam Taurus.” She was finally to the point where she could say her abusive, and now deceased, ex-boyfriend’s name without cringing. 

“Ah well.” Yang smiled. “Let’s go clubbing anyways. We’ll find a way to have some fun.”

“You’re supposed to be working at that club,” Weiss told them karenly. “There’s been a report of someone matching Neo Politan’s description there.” Yang snorted in derision, and for once Weiss agreed. Finding someone whose Semblance was looking like anyone else would be next to impossible. “Still, you should try.”

“And hanging out like we’re off-duty is the quickest way to get Neo to let her guard down,” Yang argued, and Weiss had to concede the point. She grabbed her jacket. “C’mon, Blake.” She winked at her sister and Weiss. “Don’t wait up, guys.”

“Have fun!” Ruby said, finally tearing herself away from her comic. The door closed behind them, and Ruby went back to her book. Weiss sat on her bunk, and picked up a book of her own—one on philosophy, and far denser than whatever Ruby was reading, she thought.

Then again, at least Ruby was interested in her book, Weiss thought ten minutes later. Hers wasn’t holding her at all. Instead, Weiss’ mind kept going back to their teammates. 

Yang and Blake were in love, which had originally struck Weiss as being somewhat bizarre. Oh, she loved all of Team RWBY, but as sisters; she couldn’t fathom a physical relationship. Granted, she had been raised rather traditional, and while same-sex relationships were by no means unusual on Remnant, even in Atlas, the Schnees had been rather adamant in their education. Weiss would marry a male that the family approved of, and have children. This had only increased after Winter had left for the military. Weiss herself was not against the idea, and even after abandoning her family, still considered herself solidly straight. Nor was she a virgin, carrying an on-again, off-again affair with Jaune Arc. There was nothing serious there, she told herself; Jaune was kind, a good lover, and discreet. It helped with the occasional loneliness both of them got. 

But she didn’t love Jaune. Seeing true love, which if Yang and Blake didn’t have, they did a good job of simulating, was something else entirely. And it gave Weiss ideas. Forbidden ideas. 

Her lovemaking with Jaune tended to be rather traditional: they hadn’t tried any sort of strange positions, or messed around with toys, or really done anything that Weiss would consider kinky. They’d tried oral and enjoyed it, but it had been just once. There was some fingering of nipples, but that was adventurous as they’d gotten. Weiss didn’t know if Jaune felt the same way she did, or maybe both were too afraid to try anything new. Besides, Weiss told herself, there were only so many ways men and women could fit together.

But Blake and Yang? They were _always_ doing something new. True, often it was disastrously hilarious—Yang’s incident with the Ice Dust clone, Blake’s misadventures with lingerie, the wrestling match—but they were so _adventurous._ Even the dancing tonight, although there was nothing sexual about it. Weiss had wanted to jump down and show Yang how a true professional danced, but a sudden bout of shyness had seized her. Blake and Yang not only loved each other, they had a lot of fun doing it. 

And that got Weiss thinking. What about Ruby?

It was by now no longer a secret that Ruby Rose was also no longer a virgin. She’d been carrying on what appeared to be a torrid affair with Oscar Pine. They were good together, Weiss thought. But given the weird stuff the two of them were caught doing two days before, it sounded like Ruby might be a little bored too with her sex life. Would she be interested in trying something new…with Weiss? Just the two of them? Spice things up a bit?

_No,_ Weiss thought. _Begone, thought!_ But they were stubborn thoughts. Weiss recognized what her problem was: until Jaune, she’d never had sex, except with herself, and even then sparingly. Weiss didn’t like to lose control of herself for any reason, and sex made her lose _all_ control. But now that she knew what sex was like with a partner, it was like a drug. She couldn’t get enough. She’d wanted to lose herself with Jaune, just completely hold nothing back, but she just could not quite do it. Weiss didn’t know why.

Which was why she was sitting here on her bunk, thinking lewd thoughts about the girl in the bunk above her. She’d seen Ruby naked, of course, many times, but that only fed the fire.

Wondering if she’d lost her mind, Weiss spoke up. “Ruby?”

“Mm?” Ruby was masticating a chip.

“Have you ever been…” Weiss swallowed; her mouth was suddenly dry. “Have you ever been curious as to what Yang and Blake do?”

“At the club?”

“No. In…bed.”

There was a shuffle, and Ruby leaned upside down to look at her. “Not really. I mean, Yang's my sister, so ew. Why do you ask?”

Weiss was beet red. “I…it’s silly, Ruby.”

“C’mon, Weiss. I’m your BFF. You can tell me anything.”

Weiss thought BFF was a stupid acronym, but it was true: Ruby _was_ her Best Friend Forever. “Okay…look…don’t laugh at me. But…what those two have…well…I’m a bit…um…curious.”

Ruby cocked her head to one side, looking like Zwei when the corgi saw something he didn’t understand. “About sex? Weiss, you’ve had sex.”

Weiss covered her face. This was stupid. _She_ was stupid. Talking sex with Ruby was stupid. Especially when Ruby showed that directness and lack of tact was a Xiao Long-Rose family trait. “Yes, Ruby, I’ve had sex. It’s just that…I’ve…”

Ruby hopped down off the bunk. “You’ve never had sex with another girl.” She shrugged. “Me neither.”

“Yes. Have you ever been…oh gods, I should shut up…”

Ruby nodded. “Sure. I’ve been a little curious. I mean, I love having sex.” Weiss shuddered with embarassment. There was a tendency of Team RWBY to think that Ruby Rose was forever twelve, when she was, by Remnant standards, a legal adult. “But I’ve only been with Oscar.”

“And I’ve only been with Jaune,” Weiss said.

Ruby looked at her boots. “Well…you want to try it? I mean, those two won’t be back for hours. And I don’t think anyone else is going to be around.” She was red in the face too. “I mean, if you don’t want to, Weiss…totally understand. I consider myself straight, and you do too, but…it’s really weird, maybe…”

“It’ll be a secret. Just between us.” Weiss stood up, facing Ruby. “So. We’re going to do this.”

Ruby gave a short, sharp nod. “Yeah.” They stared at each other for a minute or two. The silence got rather long and uncomfortable. “Okay, what do we do first?”

“I don’t know,” Weiss admitted. “But it’s sex. It can’t be that hard.” 

“Unless it’s a guy,” Ruby grinned. 

Weiss giggled. “Yes, unless it’s a guy. That helps.” Still, that made sense. Making love to another woman would not be _that_ different than making love to a man, except there was no penis involved. “We’ll do this like we’re making love to our boyfriends slash occasional lover.”

“Which one of us is the guy?” Ruby asked.

Weiss glared at her. “What…it doesn’t matter! I doubt Yang and Blake ask each other that question!”

Ruby wasn’t so sure; she was pretty certain that Yang was the guy in that relationship. Then again, Yang _had_ been walking funny the other night when she’d come out of the shower ahead of Blake. “Okay, okay. So let’s kiss.”

“Certainly.” Weiss closed her eyes and offered her lips, only to be nearly decapitated by Ruby kissing her so hard they both fell back on Weiss’ bunk. Weiss turned red, then a shade of blue as Ruby grabbed a handful of her braid and crushed their lips together. Finally, by main force, she fought Ruby off. “By the Brothers, Ruby! Are you trying to kill me?”

“What?” Ruby said. “That’s how I kiss Oscar!”

_It’s a wonder Ozpin hasn’t reincarnated,_ Weiss thought. “No! Be gentle. Like this.” She took hold of the back of Ruby’s head, and gently pressed her lips to her friend’s. Ruby relaxed in her arms, then they parted. “See?”

“Yeah, that’s not bad. Let’s do it again.” They did, and Weiss jumped as she felt Ruby’s tongue on hers. It was a little surprising, but not too bad, and Weiss had to admit that Ruby knew how to kiss. They parted again, and Weiss touched her lips. “That’s…quite good.”

Ruby smiled. “Yep. Oscar and I can make out for an hour. He’s a good kisser.”

“I see.” Weiss reflected that Jaune was an adequate kisser, but then again, they didn’t really make out much. Maybe she needed to change that.

“What’s next?” Ruby wanted to know.

“We should…disrobe.”

Ruby rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Oh yeah. Duh! Man, you’d think we’d never done this before, huh?” She reached up to her T-shirt. “Um…do you want to take my clothes off, or…”

“I think it will be fine if we do it ourselves. And quicker.”

“Gotcha.” Both of them stripped down. T-shirts, shorts, stockings and socks were carefully placed on the bunk or thrown to one side. They looked at each other in their underwear for a moment. Weiss’ underwear was strictly functional, cotton, and white. To Weiss’ surprise, Ruby’s underclothes were lacy, reddish-black, and decorated with roses. Weiss mentally thunked herself on the head; what was she expecting, hearts on panties and Pumpkin Pete on her bra? Ruby was a grown woman. “Those are nice,” Weiss complimented.

“Thanks. Oscar likes them. I do too. Makes me feel sexy.”

“Well, then…” Weiss reached behind her and undid her bra, setting it aside, then stepped out of her panties. Ruby had done the same. Now they were naked in front of each other. Not that the other’s body was any sort of dark secret. Weiss looked down. “Oh, you’re still shaving, er, down there?”

Ruby nodded. “Yeah. Oscar likes that, too. Actually, I’ve been doing that since Beacon. It’s weird! Pyrrha actually suggested it.”

“Pyrrha?” Weiss raised an eyebrow. If there was anyone she would not expect the idea of shaving one’s genitalia from, it would be from the shy Mistrali girl. 

“Yep. Said when you’re on long patrols with no bath around, it was best to shave off all your body hair so lice doesn’t get in it. Don’t know where she heard it from, but it’s good advice. Nora started doing it too when we were going to Haven, especially when she started getting itchy.”

“Interesting.” That made a lot of sense, though she could’ve gone without hearing about Nora Valkyrie’s grooming habits.

“You trim yours.” Ruby motioned at the thin stripe of white pubic hair. 

“I started to. I bought that new swimsuit, remember?”

“Oh yeah.” Ruby winked. “The one Jaune gets all hot and bothered at.”

Weiss waggled her eyebrows. “Indeed so.” She regarded Ruby’s bust, then her own. Both girls had filled out some since Beacon, though Ruby’s was still a shade smaller. She’d become well-rounded, as it were; Ruby was no longer flat-chested by any stretch. Ruby’s nipples were a bit darker. The nipples weren’t erect, though, and neither were Weiss'. Summoning up her courage, she reached out and touched Ruby’s breasts. They were soft and warm, but that was to be expected—after all, Weiss knew her own breasts were the same. Maybe a bit more muscle tissue. 

“Um, Weiss?” Ruby said.

“Yes?”

“Here, do this.” She took Weiss’ thumbs and put them on her nipples. “Now rub ‘em around a bit. Yeah, there you go.” Weiss saw that both of them now stiffened agreeably. Ruby’s smile widened. “Oh yeah. That’s the stuff. Oscar does that…he uses his tongue, though.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose I should do the same.” Weiss bent down and hesitantly licked the pink cones. Ruby's skin tasted a bit salty. She moved them around a little, and Ruby’s breath quickened just a little. Now they were getting somewhere.

“Okay,” Ruby breathed as Weiss straightened, “what do you want me to do with yours?” She grabbed a double handful.

“Easy! They’re not handles, you dolt.” She thought for a moment. “Flick them. Up and down. Like a switch.” Ruby nodded and began playing with Weiss’ pale nipples. They also hardened as planned. “Mmm,” Weiss approved. “Yes, that’s good. Jaune does that. Pinch them a little, too—not hard! Ow!”

“Sorry!” Ruby apologized. She was more gentle, and Weiss swallowed involuntarily. “So…well, I guess I know what’s next.” Ruby took a deep breath, like she was going underwater, and dropped to her knees. In front of her was Weiss’ crotch. Below the stripe the skin darkened slightly to the notch of Weiss' vagina. Ruby, fingers shaking a little, reached out and touched it. She figured it would be wet—hers would be, if the situation was reversed and it was Oscar kneeling in front of her—but it wasn’t. Weiss wasn’t dry, but she didn’t really seem to be all that turned on. 

“Ruby…stop for a second.” Weiss gently took her friend by the shoulders and drew her to her feet. “Look…maybe I’d better go first.”

“Well…okay.” Ruby watched as Weiss slowly got to her knees. Her inspection of Ruby was about the same, though a little clinical. She felt Weiss’ cool fingers on her, prying her open, rubbing a finger at her opening…but Ruby simply could not get it out of her head: it wasn’t erotic; it was like getting a physical. Ruby felt a thrill go through her at that, but not because Weiss was probing at her—but because she thought of something fun she might do with Oscar. That was a turn-on for sure, but those were not the rough fingers of a farmer, they were the soft fingers of a Huntress.

Ruby hung her head. “Weiss.”

“Yes, Ruby?”

“This isn’t working.”

Weiss stopped, withdrew her fingers, and sighed. “You’re right. Neither one of us are aroused, are we?”

“Nope.”

Weiss got to her feet. She and Ruby looked at each other, then both started laughing at the absurdity of it. “We must look like idiots.”

Ruby folded her arms over her breasts. “Yeah. I guess we weren’t all that curious after all.”

“Oh, I don’t know. That was good advice about the shaving in the field.” Weiss smiled, a little sadly. “I just couldn’t stop thinking about Jaune.”

“Me too. All I could think of was that Oscar really is better at this. No offense, Weiss.”

“None taken, Ruby.” Weiss leaned against the bed. “Well, now what?”

“Would you be pissed if I said I _really_ want to go see what Oscar’s doing?”

Weiss shook her head. “Not unless you’d be offended if I said I’m going to see what Jaune is up to.”

“Heh.” Ruby held her arms out, and Weiss accepted the hug. They were still both naked, but while it made it more intimate, it was also, strangely, more friendly. They might not ever be lovers, but Weiss Schnee and Ruby Rose would always be best friends.

“You go on ahead,” Ruby said, picking up her clothes. “I need to change.”

Weiss reached for her clothes, then had an idea. She grabbed her underwear, then her bathrobe, but was still nude when she reached the door. She opened it a little, saw the hallway was deserted, and started to leave. Then she glanced back. “Hey, Ruby.”

“Yeah, Weiss?”

She smiled. “Thanks. You helped.”

Ruby’s grin was huge. “You too. Have fun.”

“Oh…I will.”

Jaune Arc was also reading a comic book. He was just getting to the part where the hero challenged the villain to a dance-off when there was an insistent knocking at his door. Unlike Team RWBY, Team JNR were separated into two rooms; Jaune had insisted on giving Ren and Nora their privacy. He set the comic aside, adjusted his onesie, and padded to the door.

Whatever he’d been expecting, it was not a stark naked Weiss Schnee. “W-Wei—“ He couldn’t even get the words out.

Weiss attacked him. Usually their kisses were hesitant, gentle, soft. This time, however, Weiss was acting like she’d been poisoned and Jaune’s lips were the antidote. He wasn’t sure if she was kissing him or resorting to cannibalism. She kicked the door shut with a foot, then was tearing the onesie from him. “I want you, Jaune!” she panted. “Gods, I want you right now!” 

“Uh, sure, uh…”

“ _Now!”_ Weiss snapped. She had the onesie off while she continued her offensive against Jaune’s tonsils. Instinctively, Jaune’s fingers went to her groin, muscle memory from removing her underwear, carefully and slowly like she liked it. To his shock, he found her wet and very turned on. “W-Weiss?”

“I want you, Jaune,” she repeated in a husky snarl. Her grin was predatory. 

“Um, where?”

“Against the wall! Over the counter! On the floor! Halfway in the refrigerator! I don’t care!” Weiss seized his half-hard penis like she was going to tear it off. “Give it to me, baby!”

Down the hall, Oscar Pine was _not_ reading a comic book. In fact, he was asleep, because early to bed, early to rise was how things were done on the farm. He was not so asleep that he didn’t hear the rapping on his door. Sleepily, he mumbled something about waiting a minute, got up, rubbed his eyes, yawned, and stumbled to the door, dressed only in his boxers.

Ruby was waiting at the door. She was wrapped in a blanket. “Ruby?” he asked.

“Shh!” She pushed him back into his room. “Here, put this on.” She shoved a flashlight at him—it was one of those hands-free versions worn around the head, like a miner’s lamp. Next she put a stethoscope around his neck; he had no idea why Ruby had a stethoscope. “Um, Ruby?”

“Put on a shirt!” she insisted. “Actually, put on your sweats, too.” She sat on his bed. Oscar had no idea what was going through Ruby Rose’s mind, but he obeyed. Once he’d drawn the sweatpants up and tightened the drawstring, Ruby undid the knot of the blanket at the back, leaving it only covering her from the front. “Doctor,” she said shakily, “I’m ready for my physical.”

“What are you…oh. Ohh, I get it.” They shared a smile. Oscar nodded, then cleared his throat, trying to sound more bass and authoritative. “All right, Miss Rose, please remove your blanket. I’m a doctor, so there’s no need to be embarrassed.”

“Don’t pitch your voice low,” Ruby said. “You sound too much like Ozpin.”

“Oh, sorry.” He resumed his normal voice. “Now, Miss Rose…”

“Of course…Doctor Pine.” Ruby pulled away the towel and sat up on the bed. “Maybe you’d better listen to my heart first. It’s…beating so fast.” 

“Certainly, Miss Rose. We must be thorough.”

Yang and Blake arrived an hour later. The club had been boring. Nothing had happened, the music had been live (and terrible), and if Blake couldn’t dance, neither could half of Mantle. When Yang had caught herself wishing Neo would attack just to liven the party, both had decided to come back. 

“Sorry, Blakey,” Yang apologized.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not much of the club type anyway.”

“I suppose. You want to watch some wrestling or some—“ Yang went quiet as Blake held up a hand. Her ears twitched and her eyes narrowed as she listened. Then she put a finger to her lips and motioned Yang forward, using the battle hand signal for stealthy forward movement. Both instinctively crouched and moved down the hallway towards their dorm.

They reached Oscar’s room first. “But Doctor!” they heard Ruby plead. “That’s a serious breach of medical ethics!”

“Miss Rose, it’s the only way,” Oscar replied, in a stern voice. “Bringing you to a second orgasm is the only way to be certain your physiognomical neurological system is working adequately.”

“If you insist—oh, Doctor!” Ruby gushed. “With your penis? Oh, dear! That’s not right—ow, _Oscar!_ ”

“Sorry!” Oscar said in his normal voice. “I got a little excited there.”

“It’s okay. Just…yeah…slower.”

Blake held a hand over her mouth and bit her lip not to keep from laughing. Yang looked like she was going to throw up. _They’re roleplaying!_ Blake mouthed silently to Yang.

_Gross,_ Yang mouthed back. _Nerds._ Then she motioned Blake forward to get out of earshot. Yang really did not want to hear her little sister getting her ashes hauled.

They had barely taken three steps to their dorm when suddenly Weiss’ voice rang out loudly. _“Oh gods, Jaune! Jaune! Yes! Lick me harder! Harder, you fool! Right there—right on my—oh gods, Jaune!”_ Weiss’ voice descended into utter gibberish, punctuated by loud cries of ecstasy and foul language that made even Yang’s ears turn red. 

Both of them got into the dorm room and shut the door before they could hear Nora and Ren doing something. (Nora and Ren were actually enjoying a late, romantic, candlelight dinner in Atlas, after an hour or two of Ren training Nora in the art of ballroom dancing.) They looked at each other, both blushing. “What just happened?” Blake exclaimed.

“I don’t know,” Yang answered. “Man, we leave for a few hours, and everyone’s getting their freak on. Ruby’s playing doctor with Oscar—ergh…” Yang fought down her dinner.

“And Weiss is getting eaten out by Jaune, and being damned loud about it,” Blake finished. She shook her head. “Freaks. I’m going to bed.”

“Yeah, me too. Ruby and Weiss are just weird.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that was a bit of a tease between Weiss and Ruby, but I guess this is why I'm not a White Rose shipper. Nothing against those of you who are, of course. I just don't see these two being all that attracted to each other. Best friends, yes, but not lovers. Although...both of them were rather turned on by the time they reached their boyfriends. Maybe they weren't as non-curious as they thought...


	27. Family Affair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James Ironwood is being accused by the Atlesian Council and Robyn Hill. Luckily, Weiss Schnee has evidence that he's being framed by her father Jacques, who has conspired with Arthur Watts. And she's got video footage of the whole thing.
> 
> Unfortunately for Weiss, and everyone else...that's not the only thing she has video footage of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reviewer known only as "Emily" asked for an Atlesian political scandal, "something that people would be shocked at, especially if there's video/audio evidence." They then asked me to choose the characters.
> 
> I feel like I should apologize to Emily, the RWBY FNDM, and the world entire for the diabolical ideas that were unleashed when they asked me to choose which characters.

James Ironwood stared down the long dinner table at the two men and two women: three members of the Atlesian Council—Sleet, Camilla, and Jacques Schnee—and Robyn Hill, who had aspired to the council and led the Happy Huntresses. All four, Ironwood reflected, were a considerable pain in his ass. He was trying to do the best he could to defend the Kingdom of Atlas against Salem. Sleet and Camilla, to a certain extent, he understood: they were looking out for the economic interests of their people. Robyn was as well, but her blind idealism made her a security risk. As for Jacques Schnee, the scion of the Schnee family and Schnee Dust Company, he was as corrupt as sin and someone Ironwood suspected of treason. Sleet, Camilla and Robyn he could tolerate, but Ironwood would give a year’s pay to smash a fist into Jacques’ smug face.

Though at the moment, Jacques suddenly didn’t look so smug. In fact, he looked rather nervous. He had just taken a call from someone, and his earlier snarky self-confidence was gone. His hands kept moving, steepling in front of them, then scratching his face, then flat against the table. Something was wrong.

“I’m not quite done yet,” Robyn was saying, bringing Ironwood’s attention back to her. “You’re afraid of something, aren’t you, General?”

Ironwood turned an icy stare on her. “I think that’s pretty obvious, Miss Hill. I’m trying to prevent Atlas from becoming another Beacon, another Haven.” They’d stopped Salem at Haven, but Beacon was their worst defeat—and a personal sore spot for Ironwood.

“Yet you don’t trust your own Council to help you?” Robyn was relentless. “Operating in secret? These are the actions of somebody who’s hiding something.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Ironwood snapped.

Robyn slid her chair back and got to her feet. “Let’s put it to the test, then.” She walked towards Ironwood, and held out her hand. “You’re all aware of my Semblance.” Ironwood remembered: if she touched anyone who lied to her, she’d know about it, and so would everyone around her. “Let’s settle it here and now, General Ironwood.”

Ironwood hesitated, looking at her outstretched hand. It was tempting. He didn’t want to tell her about the Amity project, but he could at least assure Robyn and the others that they were on the same side.

Before he could take her hand or refuse, the double doors on the opposite end of the room were flung open. Everyone jumped, and Jacques Schnee almost leapt into the ceiling. 

To everyone’s surprise, it was Weiss Schnee, the youngest of Jacques' two daughters, and the former heiress to the SDC. “Wait!” she yelled. Robyn’s eyes narrowed, and her smile faded to a scowl. Ironwood had no idea what Weiss was doing there; she was supposed to be pulling security in the ballroom. “You’ve got the wrong man on trial.” She held up a Scroll and walked around the table. “I know who’s been framing Ironwood, and who rigged the election.” She looked down at him, contemptously. “And my father does too. He’s been working with him.”

Ironwood got up to get closer, followed by Robyn as Weiss set the Scroll down on the table, and tapped the PROJECT button. Jacques’ hands went to his throat, a nervous gesture Weiss was familiar with: it was the same one he would do when he didn’t really want to explain something.

Weiss expected to see the meeting between her father and Arthur Watts, Salem’s scientist and resident hacker, that her mother Willow had told her about. Watts had fixed things very nicely for Jacques, in return for access to Atlas’ computer systems. Instead, to her shock and everyone else’s surprise, it showed something very different.

It was her brother, Whitley. She recognized the room as her former one, obviously turned into a guest room of sorts after her escape months ago. Nor was Whitley alone. He was hugging someone, his back to the camera. Nor was he alone. Someone’s hands were on his back, running up and down—someone wearing black gloves and white, ruffled sleeves.

Jacques peered closer. “What is Whitley doing with the hired help?”

“That’s not—“ Weiss began, but then the two turned around slightly, to reveal Whitley in a passionate kiss with Penny Polendina. 

“What the _hell?”_ Jacques and Ironwood exploded at the same time.

In the holographic projection, the couple parted, eyes half-closed. “Whitley,” Penny murmured, barely audible, “we mustn’t. I’m…”

“You’re beautiful,” Whitley finished for her. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

“Thank you,” Penny smiled sweetly, “but from the position of your pupils, your increased breathing rate and heartbeat, and blood flowing to your penis, you obviously wish to have sexual relations with me.”

Whitley nodded and kissed her again. “If you want to, Penny. Only if you want to.”

“Well…I would love to, Whitley, but…I’m not a real girl. I’m not really built for such things. I’m a war machine, and therefore I have no genitalia. Here, perhaps I can show you.” Penny hiked up her dress and they saw her reaching for her panties.

Weiss quickly grabbed the Scroll and hit PAUSE before everyone in the room could see what Penny hid under her dress. Weiss turned red with embarrassment. “I am so sorry,” she apologized. “That was the wrong file…obviously.”

Jacques was red too, and to Weiss’ surprise, it was anger. “My son. My only son. Having an affair with a damned robot!” He shook his head. “I don’t mind him sowing his wild oats, but he is my heir, and I will _not_ having him messing around with a sex toy!”

“Penny isn’t a sex toy, you moron!” Ironwood shouted. “She’s a weapon system!”

“That makes it worse!”

Weiss quickly moved forward to the next file. “All right. Here we go.”

It showed Jacques’ study, and Weiss relaxed; she’d found the right file. Then the camera panned over, and her mouth dropped in stunned surprise. So did Jacques’. So did Ironwood’s.

Winter Schnee was bent over her father’s desk, her blue uniform pants around her ankles and her tunic hiked up around her middle—except where it was unbuttoned in the front, exposing one firm and pale breast. Behind her, thrusting eagerly into her, with _his_ pants around his ankles, was Qrow Branwen. His jacket was still on, but it only partially hid his rear end; thankfully for Weiss’ sanity, the position of the camera at least hid the more intimate parts of Winter and Qrow, but it would be obvious to the most naïve of people what they were doing.

Not that Winter was helping. “Harder, you fool!” Winter shouted. “Yes! Harder!”

Qrow increased the pace, sweat dropping from his brow. His hands were on her hips, but one reached forward to grab a handful of breast. “Winter…” he puffed. “What if…someone…hears you…”

“They won’t!” Winter assured him. “Father’s study is soundproofed!” She laughed. “Gods, it turns me on!”

“What?” Qrow nearly lost his balance, and both hands returned to Winter’s hips. She jerked open her tunic, exposing both breasts, and her hands replaced his, squeezing as her eyes shut in pure ecstasy. 

“That you’re banging me against my father’s desk, the old bastard!” She cackled madly, and her laughter was suddenly replaced with abandoned moans. “Ah, Qrow! I’m gonna come! I’m—“

Weiss lunged forward again and punched the PAUSE button. Ironwood’s hand covered his mouth, while Sleet and Camilla were both wide-eyed. Robyn, for her part, was trying to stop herself from exploding in laughter, and not doing a good job. A giggle escaped her lips, and then she began laughing. 

Jacques flung a finger at Ironwood. “Why is my daughter with that…that…ruffian? That scoundrel? That complete loss?”

Ironwood shrugged. Robyn’s laughing was starting to get to him, and if he didn’t keep an iron hold on his emotions, he was going to be joining her in hilarity. It _was_ funny that staid, icy Winter was carrying on an affair with the scruffy, irreverent Qrow. Instead of answering Jacques, he turned to Weiss. “Uh, Miss Schnee, are these live?”

“No!” Weiss exclaimed. “They were recorded! That’s what Mother told me!”

“Wait,” Jacques said, going more pale than usual, “your _mother_ put up these cameras?”

“Yes,” Weiss said triumphantly. “And now we’ll finally see!” She found the next file and hit PROJECT.

It was her father’s study again, and it was finally showing Jacques Schnee. He was sitting at his desk, wearing the same suit as normal, though it was unbuttoned, the tails to either side of the chair. He was leaning back in the chair, a smile beneath the mustache. 

To the utter horror of everyone in the room, suddenly out from under the desk came a short woman, with black hair pinned to one side, almost luminescent green eyes, and the white shirt of a Schnee family household staff member. The shirt was also all she was wearing: she was naked otherwise. She was quite proportionate to her height, however, with small but mature breasts and a thin fan of hair where her thighs met. As they watched, she turned her back to Jacques, parted her thighs, and reached down to grab—

This time it was Ironwood who stabbed the PAUSE button, so hard he almost broke the Scroll. Weiss would’ve done it, but she was too busy vomiting into a potted plant. Sleet and Camilla looked ready to join her. Robyn was now laughing so hard she was on the floor, holding onto her sides and trying to get her breath. 

Ironwood stared at Jacques. “What. The. Hell.”

Jacques’ anger was gone, replaced by embarrassment. “Ah. Well. I can explain that.” He sat up straight in his chair and adjusted his tie. “That…isn’t real.”

“Isn’t real my iron ass!” Ironwood snapped. “You’re pronging your own staff?”

“Well, doesn’t everyone?” Jacques said in an incredibly lame defense. 

“No!” Sleet shouted. “I most definitely do not, and neither does Councilwoman Camilla!” She nodded emphatically—a little _too_ emphatically, Ironwood thought. 

“And neither do I,” the general said. “You’re a sad little man, Jacques.” He reached forward and swiped to the next file.

It was once more Jacque Schnee’s study, but the person leaning against the desk was not Jacques. It was Willow Schnee, and she was stark naked. Despite himself, Ironwood had to compliment the older woman: despite being easily over forty, a mother of three children, and having consumed legions of bottles, she was still very fit and trim. And speaking of bottles, she was pouring some sort of red wine down the front of her, coating her still-firm breasts, flat stomach, and thighs in the liquor. She was facing the camera, and her ice-blue eyes stared into it. She knew she was being watched, and didn’t care: she derisively flipped her white ponytail to one side. “Drink up!” she laughed.

The same female staff member that Jacques had been having sex with came into view. This time she wasn’t even wearing her shirt, though oddly, she still had the regulation bowtie around her throat. She knelt in front of Willow, blocking her body but giving the camera a very nice view of a pert backside. The girl turned her face slightly to one side, just enough to allow the camera to see her lick her way from the junction of Willow’s thighs, over her navel, between her breasts, and to the hollow between her collarbones. Willow shuddered and almost slipped off the desk. The girl turned to the camera and winked, and for a moment, her green eyes flashed to pink and brown. 

Willow held up the near empty bottle. “What’s good for the goose, Jacques!”

It was Jacques who hit PAUSE this time. He stared at the frozen projection of his naked wife. “She’s cuckolded me,” he said in amazement.

Camilla folded her arms over her bosom. “You deserved it.”

Weiss had thrown up her dinner, but one look at the projection, and the potted plant got her lunch and breakfast too. 

Robyn was on her feet, wiping her eyes. “Huh. So that _is_ the Schnee’s natural hair color. Winter wasn’t lying.”

Weiss looked up and tried not to gag. “Oh gods. Please don’t tell me you’ve…urp…banged my sister too, Robyn.”

“What? No! I would never do such a thing.” Robyn considered. “Though your sister is a damned good looking woman…”

Any further objection or puking would have to wait, as the double doors slammed open again, once more causing everyone to jump. This time it was Willow Schnee, weaving dangerously and taking the width of the doorway. She was, at least, dressed. A bottle of Vacuo Comfort was gripped in one hand. “Weiss!” Willow yelled. “Honey, I’m _so_ sorry! I gave you the wrong Scroll!” With her free hand, she waved another Scroll, this one closed. “This is the one that shows that asshole of a husband of mine conspiring with Arthur Watts—oh, hello, _Jacques.”_ Willow grinned, baring her teeth like a predator about to devour helpless prey. “That’s right, you prick! I installed cameras _everywhere!_ ”

Jacques was out of his seat, pointing at the hologram. “Willow! What is the meaning of this?”

She walked unsteadily forward, not at all embarrassed. “What do you mean, what is the meaning…I’m having an affair, you stupid ass! With another woman! That will show _you!”_

“The least you could do was to pick someone who wasn’t on staff!” Jacques insisted, completely ignoring the fact that he was being a complete hypocrite. “And did you know that our daughter Winter is having an affair with that sot Qrow Branwen?”

“I sure as hell did!” Willow said, taking a shot of the liquor. “He’s a good bird, that Qrow.”

“And that our son is trying to get into the pants of a damned _robot?”_

“So what?” Willow shrugged. “Penny is a nice girl, and we don’t have to worry about Whitley getting a STD or getting her pregnant.”

Ironwood wished he was somewhere else. Anywhere else. Salem’s realm would do nicely. Weiss staggered to the table, reached out, and closed the Scroll, finally shutting off the picture of her nude mother. Willow tossed her the correct Scroll, and stuck her tongue out at Jacques.

“Miss Schnee,” Ironwood began, “you should know something.”

She continued to grin at Jacques, who made sounds of apoplexy. “What’s that?”

“The woman that…ugh… _both_ of you are having an affair with…she’s not a waitress. She’s Neo Politan, a notorious assassin. The fact that she’s infiltrated Schnee Manor is a serious breach of security, and we’re going to—“

“Ha!” Willow crowed. “How do you like those apples, Jacques? You screwed an assassin! You’re lucky she didn’t cut your throat. Too bad.”

Jacques said a very bad word. “I screwed—so did _you,_ Willow! You’re lucky she didn’t kill _you!”_

“Not after I showed her my corkscrew special!” Willow licked her lips. “Remember when we first married and you weren’t such a towering dick? That little trick I could do with a cherry stem and my tongue? I can still do that, Jacques! And I did it to that little waitress!” She snorted. “Oh, she was in heaven!” Then she suddenly took on a contemplative look. “Though oddly, she never said anything...”

Weiss handed the Scroll to Ironwood, gave him a short nod, then her eyes rolled back into her head and she quietly passed out. Robyn reached out and took the Scroll with all the lewd videos. “I’ll destroy this,” she said. To assure the Atlas Council that she was telling the truth, she touched her own shoulder; her hand glowed green. 

“Now then,” Ironwood said, trying to mentally wipe out the memories and images of the past twenty minutes. He opened the Scroll, said a prayer, and started the file. The projection this time showed Jacques Schnee and Arthur Watts, and Ironwood thanked the Brother Gods that both men were fully clothed and discussing how they could rig the Atlesian Council election. Willow grabbed Jacques by his clip-on tie. “You’re going _down,_ bastard,” she snarled, then took a drink.

Robyn watched the video intently. Behind her back, however, her fingers found the ERASE button and dumped all of the files into the Scroll’s recycle bin. It was a good thing, she thought to herself. The next video was probably her and Marrow Amin, in the study, with the candles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully everyone is laughing like Robyn and not puking like Weiss. I never, ever want to write a sex scene involving Jacques Schnee again. Ever. 
> 
> If you're not too horrified, nauseated, or plotting to kill me after reading this chapter, please leave a review. Or even if you are.


	28. Beautiful Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neo Politan is going to kill Oscar Pine and take the Relic of Knowledge. But then she decides to have a little fun, first. 
> 
> A lot of fun, actually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that entry sounds like this is going to be a horror show of a chapter. It's not. It's silly as usual.
> 
> This was CJ Lowder's request for Neo, Oscar and Ruby.

Neo Politan skipped down the hallway, twirling her umbrella around as she half-danced towards the room of Oscar Pine. She stopped just long enough to check her watch: still a good twenty minutes before showtime. Plenty of time.

So far, their plan had gone perfectly. She had infiltrated Schnee Manor, which was ridiculously easy; her beloved Roman Torchwick would have been stunned to see how poor the security was. She hadn’t even had to kill someone. She simply disguised herself as a member of the household staff, walked in, and started working. Neo smiled as she thought that, before everything had gone so wrong, she had at least cashed a few paychecks along the way. Roman would be proud.

Now that she was in, her objective was to find the Relic of Knowledge and take it. Cinder Fall, for her part, would kill the ailing Winter Maiden and take her power. Neo wasn’t sure exactly what Cinder needed the Relic for with the power of two Maidens under her belt, but she was grateful for the distraction. If Cinder succeeded, fine. If she failed, that was okay too. The Relic was merely collateral, a way for Cinder to get back into the good graces of Salem the Witch. Neo could just as easily deliver the Relic to Salem if Cinder got herself killed; she didn’t care about Salem or her war, but having the most powerful being on Remnant not angry at her was probably a good thing.

Of course, it did mean that her revenge would have to wait a bit longer, Neo mused. After all, while Ruby Rose was the one who killed Roman, Neo had not forgotten it was Cinder who had put her beloved into a position to _be_ killed. And if she should kill Cinder and take a Maiden’s power for herself…well, that would just be the icing on the sweet, sweet cake of revenge.

That would have to wait. First, she needed to kill Oscar Pine and get the Relic.

Neo arrived at the room; she’d already been here before, having quietly explored Atlas Academy while in various disguises. There were no guards, and the door was unlocked. She rolled her eyes. This was so easy, she wondered if it was a trap. 

With the slightest of gestures, Neo’s form changed in a shower of pink crystals; in her place now stood Ruby Rose. Neo’s smile widened to psychotic proportions: she was going to kill Ruby, but first she was going to make her nemesis suffer by murdering her lover. Neo knew: during her reconnaissance a week or two before, she’d heard strange noises coming from Oscar’s room, and knew what was going on between those two. This was going to be as delicious as a banana split. Behind her, she silently extended the spike on her umbrella. Oscar would die thinking that Ruby had killed him, anf that rather pleased Neo.

He turned as she walked in. To her surprise, he was dressed only in a towel, his hair still wet from the shower he’d obviously just taken. “Oh, hi, Ruby. Is everything okay?” She nodded. “Great. Close the door, will you?” Neo did as asked and locked it; committing murder _was_ easier with no witnesses. “Hey, I just need to change and then we can go talk to Ironwood. Is the rest of Team RWBY already back from Mantle?” As he spoke, he dropped his towel. He was no longer embarrassed about being naked in front of Ruby; they’d seen and enjoyed each other’s bodies several times, after all.

Neo, however, was a different story. She’d never seen Oscar Pine naked, and to her surprise, she was pretty impressed by what she saw. His back was to her. Oscar was already well-toned from years of working on a farm, and his physical conditioning work at Atlas had only enhanced those muscles. Her eyes traveled down the sculpted back to the tight backside. Neo had always a weakness for a good butt; Roman’s had been eminently slappable. 

_Oh no,_ Neo thought with a mental sigh. She could feel that old familiar feeling beginning to roil in her stomach. Her mouth started to get dry while other parts of her anatomy started getting wet. _Dammit! Is this a trap? Does Farm Boy know I like tight butts and cannot lie?_ Neo looked around the room, but unless Team RWBY or JNR was hiding in the bathroom, they were alone. 

Then she got another idea. She checked her watch surreptitiously as Oscar pulled on his boxers. Still time. 

She set the umbrella behind a counter, hiding it, then stepped forward as he turned around. She put a finger to her lips, then reached forward and put her hand over his eyes. Oscar laughed. “Ruby, what’re you doing?” He could hear clothing rustling, and swallowed. She couldn’t want _that._ They were supposed to go see Ironwood. 

Neo could change her appearance, even disguise her height and weight, but she still had to take off clothes. It actually made the illusions easier to maintain. Luckily, her actual clothes were easy to remove, and when she took away her hand, she was naked in front of him. Or Ruby was; Neo felt a pang of regret that she had to do this in someone else’s skin. Then she smiled again, because not only was she going to kill Ruby’s boyfriend, she was going to bang him first. Assuming she _could_ kill him; those green eyes were getting to her. Roman's eyes had been green, too.

Oscar looked at Ruby, and those aforementioned green eyes were wide. Ruby Rose’s naked form was familiar, but it still blew him away that such a beautiful girl could love a gawky guy like him. She didn’t have much in the bust department, but made up for it in her slender form. “Ruby, we shouldn’t—“ he began, but all he had to do was look into those silver eyes and he was lost.

Ruby kissed him. Usually she was a bit shy at first before she got aggressive, but not this time: her tongue felt like she was trying to reach his tonsils. He felt her hands go down his back, reach under his boxers, and Oscar squeaked a little when she grabbed a double handful of his rear and squeezed hard. Kissing her back, feeling those perfect teeth with his own tongue, he felt his boxers being slid off and didn’t mind in the least.

They parted for a moment, and then her tongue was all over him, licking his neck, his collarbones, his nipples, his pectorals, and Oscar abruptly realized where she was going. “Ruby, are you sure?” Oral had never really been their thing; neither one of them were really good at it, though Oscar put it down to inexperience more than anything. He watched in stunned fascination as she reached his member—now very erect—and began kissing and licking that as well. “Oh,” Oscar said. “Oh…maaaan…”

Neo grinned up at him. _Oh ho,_ she realized silently, _so little Ruby’s never done this for you, Farm Boy? Aww, she’s so sweet and kind. Stupid girl._ Not for the first time, Neo wished she could talk. She was curious just what these two amateurs _had_ done. Now she and Roman, they’d done every position in that forbidden Vacuoan book they’d stolen, all 64 of them—even if the 61st position was the same as the 60th, but with your fingers crossed.

_Dammit, Neo!_ she cursed herself. _Quit thinking about Roman. You’ll get all weepy._

Of course, there was another problem. At the rate Oscar was going, she considered, he was going to lose it, and Neo was going to be damned if she was going to end this before _she_ got off. So she stopped her ministrations and got back to her feet. She winked at him, turned around, bent over the bed, and slapped her own backside. Some things didn’t need verbal communication. At least Neo hoped so; hopefully Oscar wasn’t _that_ naïve. 

He wasn’t. For a wild moment, Neo worried that he might _have_ gotten the wrong message and the wrong something else, but luckily, Oscar was only teasing her. Hesitantly, and then with more confidence, he pushed inside of her.

_Whoa,_ Neo gasped. _Okay…that’s…that’s pretty good there._ He wasn’t as good as Roman, she reflected, but where Oscar was lacking in experience he made up for in enthusiasm. Neo had wondered if she was going to have to fake it, but there was no danger of that now: she was having no problems meeting him thrust for thrust. 

To her surprise, Neo found herself getting more and more excited. _Now wait a minute,_ she thought, which was becoming more difficult by the moment, _he’s a stupid farm boy who’s only had that moron Ruby Rose. How is he…oh gods…oh…oh Roman…_ Neo decided that thinking could wait, and she closed her eyes in passion. It was no longer Oscar working on her, it was Roman Torchwick.

And that thought put Neo way over the top.

She suddenly tensed up, her mouth open in a silent scream. Oscar stopped as she rode him, spasming around him. There was something odd about this, he wondered; Ruby wasn’t a screamer, and thankfully didn’t yell curse words like her sister (he’d heard Yang through the walls of the dorm, but then so had half of Atlas), but she usually said _something,_ even if it was something cute like _mmmm_ or his name. _Oh well,_ he smiled. _At least I’ve satisfied her._ Of course, he was about to burst, so he lovingly stroked her back. “Okay?” he asked her.

Neo paused. Let him finish or kill him? No, she wasn’t _that_ cruel. She should let him finish. Besides, now she wasn’t even sure she wanted to kill him. 

Whatever she would have decided will never be known, because at that moment the door to Oscar’s room flew open. Standing in the doorway was Ruby Rose, fully-clothed, panting with exertion, a keycard in one hand and Crescent Rose in the other. “Oscar!” she said between breaths. “We gotta get out of here! Ironwood’s gone crazy—he wants to arrest us and there’s a bunch of Atlesian Knights after me and we managed to kick Ace Ops’ butt and you should’ve seen me beat the shit out of Harriet and _holy shit what the fuck barbeque?”_

Ruby’s brain missed a shift. She rubbed her eyes. If she didn’t know better, Oscar was screwing her. Which was fine, she liked that sort of thing, except that she was in the doorway and not on the bed. Ruby was pretty sure that she’d just spent the past ten minutes trying to avoid being killed by Harriet Bree. So either she was having an out-of-body experience and _hadn’t_ been fighting for her life, instead enjoying being railed by Oscar. Or maybe she _had_ been fighting Ace Ops and this was an alternate universe version of her who had wisely gone to bang Oscar instead of fighting. Or Atlesian robot technology was much better than she’d been led to believe, and Oscar had stashed a sex doll of her somewhere, but Oscar was too sweet for that.

Then Ruby’s brain began to work again. Especially when the Ruby on the bed faced her and grinned triumphantly. Oscar quickly stepped back as the naked woman under him dissolved in pink crystals, revealing an equally naked Neo Politan. Oscar had never met the assassin, but he’d seen pictures in Team RWBY’s briefings. There was no question it was her, from the brown and pink hair, to the heterochromatic eyes, to the sardonic smile. 

“Buh,” Ruby sputtered. Neo straightened up, winked at Oscar again, then grabbed Oscar’s diary from the nightstand and the pen attached to it. She scrawled on a blank page, and held it up for Ruby to see. YOU'RE LUCKY. HE’S REALLY GOOD. I CAME TWICE. That was a lie, but Ruby didn’t know that.

“You… _you…_ ” The keycard dropped to the floor, and Crescent Rose came up. Silver eyes flared in sheer rage, and Neo realized she’d just made a terrible mistake. Ruby's silver eyes could only hurt Grimm, but the scythe sliced towards her neck, and that _could_ kill her. Neo dropped to her knees, feeling the blade part some of her top hairs, then feinted towards Oscar before leaping across the bed—not a moment too soon, because Ruby spun the scythe and rammed it through the spot she’d been. 

Neo ran for her life. Ruby was across the bed in a second, leaving rose petals twisting in the wind behind her, while Oscar wisely retreated to the bathroom. As Neo leapt for her umbrella, Crescent Rose was transformed into its rifle mode, and Ruby, screaming incoherently, opened fire. 

If the door hadn’t been still open, Neo Politan’s career would’ve incongrously ended buck naked at the hands of a maddened Huntress. As it was, she felt one shell go past close enough to her head to feel the air part around it, and was out the door with her umbrella as Ruby blasted everything in sight. Holes were blown through walls and every piece of furniture save the bed blown to pieces. 

Neo dashed down the hall, without even time to disguise herself, because Ruby was out of Oscar’s room and hot on her heels. The shapeshifter rounded the corner and nearly ran into two Atlesian Knights, the robot soldiers of the Atlesian military. The two machines hesitated a moment, but they were programmed to arrest Ruby Rose and Oscar Pine first and foremost, not stop a naked woman with weird hair. Their primary task function overrode the indecent exposure subroutine, and they stepped around the corner. “Ruby Rose,” they intoned together, “you are under arrest in accordance with Executive Order 66—“

_“GET OUT OF MY WAY, YOU BASTARDS!”_ Ruby shouted. The scythe reappeared, and both robots were sectioned in mere seconds, falling to sizzling pieces. Then Ruby stopped, her eyes still ablaze with silver fire. Neo was gone. The robots had bought her just enough time. The reaper would never know that Neo was actually only five paces ahead, but had managed to camouflage herself back into the wall. It was a desperation move, because if her opponent sensed her, Ruby’s one regret would be that she could only kill Neo once.

Luckily for Neo, Ruby just exploded into such profanity that the walls threatened to blister, and stalked away. 

Oscar had dressed faster than he ever had in his life, and now she advanced on him. “Oscar,” she growled. “Why were you fucking Neo Politan?”

Oscar waved his hands, his life and all of Ozma’s reincarnations flashing before him. “I wasn’t! I mean, I _was,_ but I thought she was you!” Ruby’s fingers tightened around Crescent Rose, and it went back into rifle form. “I swear to the gods, Ruby! She came in looking like you, then she closed my eyes, and she was naked, and it was you, and when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist and a round thing in your face—“

“Ruby Rose,” another Atlesian Knight began, walking in from a side passage, “you are under arrest—“ Ruby didn’t even look. She shot the robot in in the face and kept glaring at Oscar. Slowly, she chambered another round, her eyes never leaving his.

“I thought it was you,” Oscar pleaded, on the verge of tears.

“She had pubes, dumbass. I shave. Remember?”

Oscar willed his soul to the Good Brother, because his ass belonged to Ruby Rose. “I didn’t notice, Ruby. She didn’t give me time. And from that position, it’s not like I could really tell and oh gods, you’re going to shoot me and throw my body off the side of Atlas—“

Then he felt her lips on his, her fingers behind his head. It wasn’t the hungry kiss Neo had given, but a soft, loving kiss. Ruby pulled back. “Did she kiss like that?”

“Um…no.” Oscar looked down. “I’m really sorry, Ruby. I thought it was you,” he repeated.

Ruby nodded and sighed. “I forgive you, Oscar. It’s okay. You're right...you couldn't have known.” She reached up and began undoing her corset straps. “Okay, we don’t have a lot of time here, so I need you to get my belt off—the stockings can stay on, and the boots too; they give better traction that way—“

“Wait, what?” Oscar had fallen behind a little.

“Well, duh. You probably got a serious case of blue balls right now, right?” Oscar nodded; he was feeling a bit constricted. “And I’ll show _you_ what the real Ruby Rose can do. You're going to forget all about what just happened. Ha! Neo doesn’t know you the way I do, Oscar!” Ruby cackled. “I know you like me to do that thing I do, the one we don’t talk about.” She slid the door shut as she took off her cape.

“But Ruby! Ironwood has an arrest order on both of us!”

“And Salem’s on her way. Blah blah blah! Who cares? They can by golly wait! Now help me with this corset.”

Cinder Fall alighted on the edge of Atlas’ upper zones. She ached all over, especially where her Grimm arm had gotten sliced off by Winter Schnee. It had regrown, but that had hurt. Getting blasted by various weapons from Penny Polendina hadn’t felt good either. That _really_ hurt, she reflected, especially since now that stupid robot was the Winter Maiden. Cinder was getting damned tired of losing.

She saw Neo walking towards her and smiled slightly. This would be something, at least. The Relic of Knowledge would get her back in Salem’s good graces…assuming Cinder even turned it over at all. After all, there were other Maidens, and who knew what secrets the Relic could share? Neo looked exhausted, and she could see just the tiniest of flickers around the short woman. To anyone who knew Neo Politan, that meant that she was having a little trouble maintaining an illusion, which was strange, since she was dressed in her normal outfit. Neo waved, then held up a little notepad. HOW DID IT GO?

Cinder decided to be honest. “I got my ass kicked. But enough about that. Where’s the Relic?”

Neo blinked. Then she closed her eyes and her expression became one of regret. _Shit,_ she mouthed.

Cinder massaged her temples. “Let me guess. You didn’t get it.”

Neo quickly wrote on the notepad, but it still took her a little while. Then she held it up for Cinder to read. TEAM JNR AND OSCAR WERE WAITING ON ME, WITH A LOT OF ATLESIAN KNIGHTS. LIKE, A DOZEN OF THEM. IT WAS A TRAP. I GOT SCREWED HARD.

“Didn’t we all,” Cinder sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's better than what actually happened at the end of Season 7.


	29. I, Robot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penny Polendina and Whitley Schnee have a secret: each other. But how can love blossom between the heir to the Schnees and a robot?
> 
> Love always finds a way, even if it's awkward and requires certain subroutines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The brief "video clip" from the last chapter inspired this story. Broken Machines is not a ship I knew I liked until I wrote that scene, so this takes it to its (illogical) conclusion. Not to worry--I haven't forgotten anyone's ideas. I was just struck with inspiration (or temporary insanity, but that's normal).
> 
> This chapter does loosely reference "I Want to Know What Love Is" from "One Night in Atlas," but don't worry if you haven't read it.

Penny Polendina watched Winter Schnee walk away sadly—sadly, for both of them. _Poor Winter,_ Penny thought. _It must be so difficult dealing with your feelings._ Penny, of course, had feelings, though there were times she wondered if she’d developed them, or were merely programmed with them. 

She leaned against the wall, then caught sight of the clock. She smiled, then glanced towards Winter—who was around the corner, lost in her own thoughts—and quickly moved away. They wouldn’t have much time, so she had to use what she had. She would have used her rocket boots, if they weren’t so loud. Still, even without them, it didn’t take long to reach one of the several guest rooms at Schnee Manor. She did a quick scan of the area, detected no one, and quickly ducked into the room.

The room was fairly spartan, with just a bed, a nightstand, and a dresser. A large window lit the dark room dimly, by the light of the shattered moon and Atlas itself. She did another scan, and satisfied, sat on the bed. If Penny had a heart as humans and Faunus knew the term, she knew it would be pounding with anticipation. Instead, she ran a calming subroutine that would keep those emotions, whether real or programs themselves, under control.

Her aural sensors picked up the sound of feet approaching, slightly heavier tread than the Schnee staff, and the steps sounded angry. She stood, unsure if she could lie her way out of this without hiccupping. Her father, Pietro, had kept that little quirk after she’d been rebuilt; he said it kept her honest. 

The door opened to admit Whitley Schnee. That was good. And he was indeed angry and soaked head to waist in red wine. That was bad.

Penny’s hands went to her mouth. “Oh dear.”

He sighed and closed the door. “Yeah.” There was a bathroom attached to the guest room, and he walked into it, retrieved a towel, and began drying the wine off. Penny walked hesitatingly towards him. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Some morbidly obese woman spilled her wine all over me. And if she hadn’t, that Nora Valkyrie girl would covered me in stew and sandwiches.” Penny was silent. She didn’t think Nora would do that to her friend, even as a joke. Whitley finished mopping his face, tossed the towel in a corner—some maid would see to it later—and came out. “They really think I’m stupid, don’t they?”

Penny shook her head. “No, Whitley, they don’t,” she said quietly, and hiccupped.

He brushed past her and sat on the bed. After a moment, Penny sat next to him. “It’s so hard, Penny,” he said finally, after some long minutes. “I know what they were doing. And I know Weiss wants to hurt Father, because he hurt her. And I don’t know what to do.” She put a hand on his shoulder, and he covered it with his own. “Father’s done something wrong, Penny. I know it. Weiss wants to expose him, but that’ll destroy the Schnee family—moreso than it already is.” He leaned over and buried his face in his hands. “I had to be mean to my own sister, Penny. Gods. I love Weiss, and I had to act like I barely knew her. Father told me so.”

“She’ll understand,” Penny reassured him.

“No, she won’t. Weiss isn’t even a Schnee any more, just like Winter…” His voice trailed off, and he looked up at Penny. “I’m sorry,” he smiled. “I know I asked you to meet me here tonight, and it wasn’t to talk about this crap.”

Penny thought that talking about that ‘crap’ might be the best thing, but she smiled back. “What did you want to do?”

He turned away, shy all of a sudden. “Um…well…”

“You wanted to…make out?”

He nodded. “If it’s okay with you.”

“Of course! I am very curious about this thing called kissing.” Carefully, she turned Whitley’s head towards her—carefully, because she could easily wrench his head off—and kissed him. His arms went around her, and then he stopped. “Wait,” he sighed, pulling back. “I’m going to get red on you.”

“Oh.” Penny was disappointed.

Whitley’s smile returned. He reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, and put it on the floor. Penny’s anticipation subroutine engaged, and she felt herself involuntarily swallow, which was odd, since she didn’t even eat. Whitley didn’t have much of a build, although he did do combat training, and his skin was pale and smooth. Penny consulted her memory banks, and made a notation that this was the first male chest she had ever seen. She hesitantly reached out, stopped, removed her gloves, and placed a hand over his heart. Whitley started a little; Penny’s hands were a little cold. She increased the heat circulation to them and he relaxed. He looked into her eyes, ice-blue on bright green. “I think we can try that kissing again.”

“Yes!” Penny exulted, and she locked lips with him once more. Whitley’s hands fell onto her back, and ran up and down them, setting off pressure sensors and activating certain pleasurable subroutines. It had been a surprise to Whitley the first time he’d kissed Penny Polendina, several months ago: her lips were warm and moist, rather than cold and artificial. She’d told him that she generated artificial saliva from her cooling system, which was a bit more information than he’d wanted. 

Whitley pulled back from her again. “I still can’t believe I’m with you,” he said softly.

“It does seem strange,” Penny admitted. 

“How long has it been since your father introduced you to me?”

“Eight months, eight days, fourteen hours, six minutes and fifty-two seconds. Since we have been secretly dating, four weeks, two days, six hours, eighteen minutes and thirty seconds.”

He laughed. “I should’ve known better than to ask.” He leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers. “I wish I could tell people about us, Penny.”

Penny nodded sadly. “I do as well. I want to tell my friend Ruby that I, too, have a boyfriend.”

“But we can’t,” he sighed. “Father would go berserk. Mother…she wouldn’t understand. Weiss and Winter would be appalled.”

“Weiss would accept it. I think Winter could as well.” And because Penny desired more research and a longer video to play back later, began kissing him again. She ran her hands over his chest, and Whitley shuddered. The kiss deepened, and to her surprise, she felt a tongue against hers. The younger Schnee instantly pulled back. “Oh gods! Penny, I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—“

She shook her head. “It’s okay. I’m actually quite curious as to what this ‘Vacuo kissing’ is all about.”

“I should’ve asked first.”

Penny giggled. “Then ask, silly.” She honestly didn’t know if Whitley was being polite because it was the way he was raised, or because he feared she would rip his arms off if he got too fresh. 

“Can I—“

“Good enough!” Penny was back to kissing him again, and this time put _her_ tongue in _his_ mouth. The taste wasn’t terribly pleasant, as she could taste his toothpaste (Schnee Brand, naturally), what he’d had for dinner (pork ribs with mashed potatoes) and to drink (soda, with a small amount of wine). Still, it also sent more rather interesting data back to be processed. She wondered if it was having a similar effect on Whitley, so she ran a scan over him. She broke off the kiss. “Whitley,” she said, “by the position of your pupils, your higher body temperature, the increase in breathing and heart rates, and the flow of blood to your penis, it is apparent that you want to have sexual relations with me.”

Whitley turned red. There was no point in denying it. He was a fifteen year old, healthy teenaged male, with his arms around what appeared to be a seventeen or eighteen year old, healthy teenaged girl. Who happened to have artificial polymer skin, a titanium alloy skeletal structure, plastic myomer muscles, a supercomputer brain, and enough firepower to level Mantle. Even with his hands on her back, he could feel the blades stored within, ready to spring out; each one could cut through Class V armor. 

And Whitley didn’t care. He wanted this girl. “Yes, if you want to.” It sounded wrong. “I’m sorry, Penny.”

“Why? It is a normal physiological response from a physically mature human male. In fact,” Penny winked, “I would almost be offended had you _not_ had that response.”

“Then…” Whitley couldn’t believe he was asking this. He knew Penny would be detecting his heart rate entering the danger zone, it was beating so hard. He’d never really expected this, never dared to dream it. “Do you…want to?”

Penny’s expression became sad. “Yes,” she told him. “I would enjoy the sex. But…I’m not a real girl, Whitley.”

“Yes, you are!” Whitley insisted, and not because he wanted to sleep with her, but because it was true. She was more real than his family.

“Not physically, though I appreciate the compliment.” Penny internally decided that she had to show him. She stood, reached up and pulled down her suspenders, then unbuttoned her blouse. Somewhat to Whitley’s surprise, she wore a bra. His mouth was bone dry as she unclasped it and let it fall forward, exposing her breasts…which had no nipples. “You…don’t…” he stammered.

“Whitley, I am a combat machine. There was no need for nipples, which are for nursing and secondary sexual features. Since I can’t do either, there was again, no need.” She put her bra back on, then bunched up her dress around her waist. She wore black frilly panties, but Whitley was not really any more turned on by them, as he had a feeling what was behind them. Or not behind them. He was right: Penny yanked them open with one hand, and there was nothing at the junction of her thighs but smooth, artificial skin. She let them snap back into place, dropped her skirt, and sat down dejectedly next to him. “Now I am the one who is sorry.” Moisture appeared at her eyes; Penny could not have sex, but she could cry. “I’m not real, Whitley. Not like that. So I can never bear you children, nor be a complete girlfriend.” She wiped away a tear. “I suppose you will want to leave now.”

“No way,” Whitley said. He grabbed her bangs and fiercely kissed her. “You feel real to me.”

“But we cannot have sex!” Penny insisted.

“So what?” Whitley cupped her face. “I mean, yes, I’m sad about that, Penny, but not because I just wanted to…” _What did Mother call it when she’s drunk?_ he asked himself. “I don’t want to fuck you, Penny. I want to…love you.” He wiped his own eyes. “That’s all.” _After all,_ he thought bitterly, _no one else loves me._

“Love me?” Penny, in nanoseconds, ran through her memory banks about that—a conversation she’d had with Ruby one night in Atlas about love, and the occasional strange noises she heard coming from Team RWBY’s dorm room, as well as Team JNR’s and Oscar’s. She knew Yang and Blake loved each other (of course, so did most of Atlas Academy), as did Nora and Ren, and Oscar and Ruby seemed to have a reasonable fascimile thereof. And Weiss “hooked up” with Jaune on occasion. But she could not do that. Then again, as Ruby said, there was a lot more to love than sex. She did not know if she loved Whitley…but she liked him a lot. “Do you…love me, Whitley?”

“I don’t know.” Whitley was mature enough to realize that he was feeling one part lust and one part affection for Penny. And there was the matter of her being a robot, as much as he hated to admit it. He’d had to grow up fast in the Schnee household. He wasn’t sure he knew what love was, but he damn sure knew what it _wasn’t._ “I want to.”

“Hmm.” Penny consulted more of her memories and programming, and what she had learned from researching things on the internet. Pietro had put in certain firewalls and controls on her, but Penny had quickly routed around them. Of course, after some of the weird things she’d seen on the internet, she’d just as quickly wished she hadn’t. She didn’t think such things were possible with small appliances, and why would anyone want to have sexual relations with Grimm? The mere thought activated her nausea program. (Penny wasn’t really sure _why_ she had a nausea program.) “Perhaps there is a way.” Penny reached up and undid her bra again, and set it aside. “You may touch, Whitley.”

Whitley hesitated for a few seconds, torn between his logical mature brain telling him _Those are not real breasts, but a flesh-toned polymer covering probably some sort of storage devices_ and his teenaged guy brain screaming HOLY CRAP BOOBS and not _caring_ they were polymer. He—carefully—grabbed them. They were soft and warm. He hoisted them a little, and decided that his logical brain was way off. Not that he’d ever felt breasts before, but some biological instinct told him these felt just fine. “They’re…wow.”

“They’re adequate?” Penny was a little sensitive over her chest. After all, the only reason she even had breasts was because Pietro wanted a daughter, and thought a teenaged daughter would be a suitable disguise. Beacon had ended that, but he’d still wanted a daughter. Because Pietro was not, however, a sick bastard, he had not given Penny large breasts.

“Yeah,” Whitley replied. “Does it…feel good?”

Penny considered that. “It is activating certain pleasurable sensation subroutines.” She smiled and nodded. “Yes, Whitley, it feels _quite_ good.”

“I guess you can’t…you know…um…” Whitley wasn’t sure how to say it.

“Can’t…” Penny tried to finish his sentence, then suddenly knew what he was trying to say. “Oh. No, Whitley, I cannot orgasm. But I can say that what you are doing does feel rather nice.” She considered for a moment. “Hold on.” Internally, Penny accessed her pleasure program. It was designed to allow her to feel happy or sad as the moment required it, but her learning brain had long since internalized the program so that it was as automatic as human or Faunus feelings. However, it still had settings. Penny found those settings and mentally turned the dial to eleven.

Her eyes widened. _“Whoaaa!”_ Then they began to glow, and Whitley let go like she’d turned into a Beowulf; he wondered if he was about to die, as he wasn’t sure if Penny’s eyes were lasers. She blinked and shook her head. “Whitley!” she said, grinning madly. “Touch me again!” Deciding that being vaporized by his girlfriend was not a horrible way to go, Whitley carefully touched her breasts again. “Woooow!” Penny said, her body beginning to shake. “So _that’s_ what that feels like!”

“Uh, Penny…did you just…”

She dialed down the sensitivity a little. “No, Whitley, but that’s as close as I can get. Oh my. No _wonder_ my friends are always having sex.”

“Er…” Whitley did not really need to hear about the hookups from Team RWBY, especially since one of them was his sister.

Penny sighed happily. “I enjoyed that, Whitley. Thank you.”

“Um, you’re welcome. I’m glad.” And he was. He kissed her, and Penny jumped. “Oops,” she laughed. “Sensitivity is still a teensy bit high.” Whitley laughed too. It felt good. Being with Penny felt right. Penny glanced down. “Oh. You seem to have lost your erection.”

“That’s okay.”

“No, it is not.” Penny knew from her discussions with Ruby and her stored memories that sex was meant for pleasing both parties—otherwise, it was wasted effort. She pushed him back onto the bed, nearly driving the breath from his lungs in excitement, reached down, and grabbed the zipper to his pants.

“Penny, are you _serious?”_ Whitley exclaimed. 

“Very much so. Do you not want me to?”

“Um…” Whitley once more was getting mixed messages from his brain. Logic dicated that Penny, in her enthusiasm, could do him permanent damage, or would be so grossed out that she would leave. Teenaged Whitley was screaming LET HER YOU IDIOT. “I…guess?”

“Okay.” Penny eased off his pants, then his underwear. His erection popped out, and Penny was startled. Her data banks told her what it was, but aside from her ill-advised journey into the strange parts of the internet, she’d never seen one before, and certainly not in person.

_What do I do?_ she thought. _It’s approximately six inches in length, which is slightly below average, and by the position of his testicles, he is very much ready for sexual relations. Unfortunately, as I have no vagina, we cannot do this in the traditional fashion._ She consulted some of her saved files. _In my mouth? No…I may not generate enough saliva for that to be effective, and to be honest, that sounds a little strange to do at this point in our relationship. Between my breasts? No…they are not large enough. I am not Yang Xiao Long. Oh. I could use my hands._ _But what if I hurt him? Oh wait! I have an idea! Yes, Blake Belladonna told Yang she had something like this._

“Whitley, may I touch you?” she asked.

He didn’t trust himself to speak. If anything, he felt like he was getting harder. Penny’s analysis left her staring at his member, which was both torture and erotic at the same time. He nodded. 

“Good. I will engage my vibration function.” She held up her right hand, and it began buzzing. Then her fingers began vibrating so fast that they began to blur.

Whitley instantly covered himself with his hands. “Penny, _don’t!”_

She looked confused. “But I understand that vibration is quite pleasurable—“

“Not that fast! You’ll tear me apart!” Whitley had a sudden memory of watching a chainsaw go through a slab of beef. “Why do you even _have_ a vibration function?”

“Well…it’s quite effective if I have to cut through steel to save someone, like if they were trapped in a car or an airship, and…oh.” She suddenly realized why Whitley was terrified. “Oh dear.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. “I don’t know what to do,” Penny confessed. “But I must do something, otherwise you will experience epididymal hypertension.”

Whitley turned paler than usual. “What’s that?”

“I believe the slang term is ‘blue balls.’”

He had to chuckle at that. He reached for his underwear. “Penny, it’s all right. I can take care of this later, and General Ironwood must be wondering where you are—“

“No!” Penny insisted. “You gave me pleasure, and I must return it. It is what is proper.” She reached down and firmly, but gently, took his hands away. His erection had faded a little, but as she looked at it, as if she was scanning it—it occurred to Whitley that Penny might be doing exactly that—it returned to full mast. “How interesting,” she said. Then she took hold of it. Once more, Whitley’s brain became a fight between _oh shit, she’s going to tear off my dick_ and _HOLY CRAP A GIRL HAS GOT HOLD OF ME._

Of course, now that Penny was holding him, she wasn’t sure what to do next. Experimentally, she moved her hand up, then down, then up again, mainly to see what would happen. 

And that was really all Whitley Schnee needed. He tensed, let out a groan, and ejaculated.

Penny let go as if she’d accidentally grabbed a rattlesnake. Frantically, she consulted her data, then relaxed. “Oh. I see. You have reached what is sometimes called your peak. You are experiencing an orgasm.” Whitley gave something of a whine at that; worse, not only was she right, but it wasn’t like he could stop. Penny watched, fascinated, until finally there was nothing left to come out. Then she got up, got another towel from the bathroom, and, with the utmost of courtesy and compassion, dried him off. 

“Well,” Whitley puffed, “that was probably the most embarrassing and awesome thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Penny thought for a moment. “I did not find it awkward, Whitley. Now coming upon Ruby Rose dressed in nothing but her hood, sneaking to Oscar Pine’s room to lose her virgi—“ She stopped as he hurriedly grabbed her lips, making her look briefly like a duck. “Itf vasf mormal,” she murmured, and he let go. 

She lay down next to him, then on impulse, kissed him. “I’m sorry, Whitley. You should have a real—“

“Stop saying that.” He reached over, picked up her bra, and handed it to her. “Penny, you’re…you’re just wonderful.” He knew it sounded lame, and didn’t care. It was true, as true as she was.

“Aww, Whitley.” She almost said that she couldn’t wait to tell Ruby that she had experienced a little of what Ruby did with Oscar, but reconsidered. She then quickly reviewed the last few minutes, then locked them away in a subfolder, protected by triple-password algorithms that not even the most advanced computers in Remnant could crack. These memories were for her and Whitley alone.

Without warning, the Grimm attack alarms went off. Instantly, Penny was sitting upright, adjusting her blouse, pulling her suspenders back on. “Whitley, I am very sorry, but I have to go.”

He sat up as well. “Sure. Of course.” Before she could go, he grabbed her hand and kissed it. “Thanks, Penny.”

She gave him a quick peck on the lips. “You’re wonderful too, Whitley. Maybe nobody else sees that…but I do.” Then she was gone.

Whitley sagged back onto the bed. He stared at the ceiling even as the alarms went off, and his Scroll started buzzing for his attention—in his pants pocket, which was somewhere down around his ankles now. He ignored both. “How about that,” he whispered, then grinned. “So that’s what love feels like.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe I was too nice to Whitley here--RWBY kind of implies that he's going to end up as much of a jerk as his father--but I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. 
> 
> Though having the Winter Maiden as a girlfriend would be pretty interesting (and scary)...


	30. A Slice of Your Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Weiss treats Blake to dessert, they have a discussion about what kind of pies they like best. And when Yang accidentally overhears them, she comes to exactly the wrong conclusion.
> 
> Poor Jaune.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was wondering what to write tonight, and had some ideas, but then Otter Boom gave me two really great ideas. The muse struck with their second suggestion, and here you are.

Blake Belladonna hit _Save_ and leaned back in her chair. _Good,_ she thought, _that’s finished._ It was a report on her and Yang’s interception of the Happy Huntresses. She took a sip of coffee and proofread it. The report was good, although it left out the part where they’d told Robyn Hill about the Amity Project. Blake considered putting that in, but Ironwood would be angry to say the least. No, she mused, it was best to let sleeping dogs lie, and what James Ironwood didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Probably nothing would come of it anyway. What was the worst that could happen?

The door to Team RWBY’s shared dorm room came open, admitting Weiss Schnee. She had both hands behind her back. “You missed dinner,” she told Blake.

Blake shook her head. “I got some takeout.” She pointed to the garbage can, where the remnants of a fish platter were. 

“Would you like some dessert?” Weiss pulled out a to-go box from behind her back. In it were two pieces of lemon pie. “One for you, one for me.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Blake stretched and stood as Weiss found some silverware and plates. “Where’s Ruby and Yang?”

“Ruby went to visit Oscar.” They shared a knowing glance about that. Ruby Rose was proving every bit as hot-blooded as her sister. “Yang should be here any time—she was talking to Team FNKI.” Weiss handed a slice to her friend, and both sat on Weiss’ bed. Both munched on the pie, which was quite good for cafeteria fare. “This is really good,” Blake observed. “And lemon pie’s not even my favorite. I’m more of a cherry pie person.”

Weiss nodded. “It’s not mine, either.”

“Oh? What’s your favorite?”

“Banana cream pie,” Weiss answered. 

“Oh gods yes!” Blake agreed happily. Kali Belladonna made some banana cream pies that were the envy of Menagerie. “I love cream pies. I can’t get enough of them.”

It was at that moment that Yang Xiao Long came up to the dorm room door. Through the door, all she heard was Blake exclaiming that she loved cream pies.

For a normal person having normal thoughts, someone saying they loved cream pies would conjure images of eating banana cream pies, strawberry cream pies, or even key lime pie. There would be nothing remotely sexual about it. However, for Yang, who was neither normal nor prone to normal thoughts, her brain immediately assumed the most perverted thing imaginable: the slang term for the male finishing just inside the female without a condom, and the resulting mess. Were she asked why her thought process immediately assumed such a thing, she would blame it on society, the internet, and video games. 

Yang hesitated at the door, then stepped back a bit—taking herself out of earshot. Had she continued to eavesdrop, Weiss and Blake began discussing the culinary achievements of Kali Belladonna and Klein Sieben, and Yang probably would have realized that neither woman was talking about sex. But she didn’t, and in fact went into the stairwell, where she sat and thought.

_Blake likes creampies?_ Yang asked herself. It made some sort of sense, she supposed. Though it was easy to forget sometimes, Yang was not Blake’s first and only sexual partner. As much as it literally pained Yang to think about it, the title of Blake Belladonna’s first love was the psychotic and murderous Adam Taurus. Blake and Yang had never really gotten into the details of Adam and Blake’s sex life, because the memory hurt Blake, and Yang would never do something to hurt her best friend and lover. All Blake would say was that Adam had actually been an exceptional lover—one of the reasons it had been so hard to leave him. But they’d never discussed exactly what Adam _did_ to make him an exceptional lover. Yang supposed that maybe Adam liked to finish inside Blake, and given the achievements of Atlesian contraception technology—one shot a week for the female was enough to be 99.6% effective against pregnancy—it was certainly possible that neither she nor Adam resorted to more traditional means of contraception. In that case, creampies were perfectly—or near perfectly—safe.

Yang nodded to herself. It seemed a bit weird, but everyone had weird kinks, and as kinks went, that seemed actually a little pedestrian. Yang couldn’t exactly say for herself if she went in for that sort of thing, since her sexual experience before Blake was a fumbling attempt at losing her virginity at Signal and a hookup with Dove Bronzewing at Beacon. Neither was particularly impressive, and in both cases, the guy in question had used the old reliable condom. She caught herself wondering how, exactly, that sort of thing felt, but shook herself: no, she was committed to Blake. Yang still very much liked guys, but she loved Blake and wouldn’t betray that trust.

Of course, that left her with a problem: barring some sort of extremely strange magic that probably only Salem could wield, Yang couldn’t exactly provide Blake with the aforementioned creampie experience. She didn’t have the equipment. Certainly she could procure a strap-on, but that was only getting halfway there, as it were.

That led Yang down a strange mental path. If Blake wanted a creampie, that meant finding her a male partner. Yang was adverse to sharing, but she’d always wondered what a threesome felt like. The question was, assuming that Blake would be even up for that sort of thing, who else would? Yang mentally reviewed the males she knew. 

Lie Ren would never do it, and Nora Valkyrie would pop Yang's head off and shoot hoops with it if the brawler dared suggest such a thing. 

There were the guys from Ace Ops—both Clover Ebi and Marrow Amin were kind of hunky, and the latter was a Faunus, which might make Blake more comfortable with the idea. But Yang regarded Ace Ops as being stuck-up assholes, so that was probably out the door. 

Flynt Coal of Team FNKI might not be a bad idea, but Yang was pretty sure that Flynt and Neon Katt were lovers, and she already had her hands full with one cat Faunus.

Oscar Pine? No, Yang smiled to herself, he was with Ruby. And they were cute together, as much as Yang hated to admit it.

That really just left Jaune Arc. 

Yang got up and left the stairwell. Jaune made sense. Weiss and Jaune did occasionally hook up, but Weiss had made it abundantly clear that Jaune was a friend with benefits and nothing more; she didn’t have a claim on the swordsman. And Jaune was such a great guy, Yang thought, that he’d not only probably agree to it, he’d be a good lover. _And heck,_ Yang considered, _it’s not like I’ve ever thought about Jaune like that._ On occasion, Yang had wondered just what Jaune was packing. He certainly knew how to make Weiss smile.

First, however, she’d have to consult Blake. It would be best, and save time, if she asked both Blake and Jaune at the same time. Yang returned to the dorm room, wondering if she was making a mistake, but shook that off. No, dammit, Blake deserved to be happy, no matter what, and it wasn’t fair for Yang to monopolize her lover. Even if it didn’t feel right. 

She opened the door. “Hey, Blake. Hey, Weiss.” They had already finished off the pie, and Blake was back in front of the computer as Weiss changed into her pajamas. “Blake, do you have a bit?”

Blake saved what few changes she’d made to the report. “Sure.” She got up, exchanged a wave with Weiss, and left with Yang. “What’s up?”

“Well…I need to talk with you and Jaune about something. It’s…kinda private.”

That should’ve set off alarm bells for the Faunus, but Blake only nodded. They walked the few steps over to Jaune’s dorm room, where he lived alone to give Ren and Nora privacy, and Yang knocked on the door. Jaune opened it a few moments later. He was in his boxers, but none of the three were embarrassed about it by now. They’d been together too long—another reason why Yang thought Jaune was the best choice for this. “Hey, you two,” he grinned. “What’s going on?”

“Got a minute?” Yang asked.

“Sure. Just playing around my phone.” He motioned them in and shut the door, then sat on his bed while Blake took a chair, now thoroughly mystified. Yang remained standing, paced for a minute, fought down a wave of embarrassment, and then figured she might as well just come out with a straight left. “Guys, listen…I…um…” She couldn’t quite bring herself to say it. “So, er, Jaune…you know Blake and I have a thing, right? Girlfriends?”

“Well, yeah,” Jaune replied. As loud as Yang got sometimes when she thought there was no one within earshot, Jaune would wager some lien that most of the Kingdom of Atlas knew it by now. Blake was staring at Yang.

“So…um…if it’s okay with you…and I know you’re not really serious with someone, but…well…” Yang closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You wanna have a threesome with Blake and me?” It came out all at once, so fast that neither Jaune nor Blake were sure what she’d said.

“Say _what?!”_ both of them yelled.

Yang put up her hands. “Okay, okay…I know that came out of nowhere, but it’s something that I wanted to do for Blake…”

Blake was gripping the arms of the chair and gaped at Yang. “Have you lost your _mind?”_

“No!” Yang insisted. 

“What makes you think I’d want to have a threesome with Jaune?” Blake winced; that sounded rather mean. “I mean, no offense, Jaune, but…um…you’re good looking and everything, but…”

Jaune was still about three seconds behind. His brain was processing the sudden offer of a threesome between two of the most beautiful women on Remnant, and now Blake had just said that he was good looking. Jaune was enough of a red-blooded male to at least consider the idea of being the meat in a Yang and Blake sandwich. He quickly put a pillow over his crotch, praying that neither Blake and Yang had noticed. “Um, none taken.”

“I didn’t know!” Yang half-yelled. “That’s why I’m asking!” She nodded at Jaune. “It looks like _you’re_ up for it, Jaune.” Jaune sagged down, not sure which was worse: the fact that Yang _had_ noticed he was getting hard, or that she’d made a damn pun out of it.

“Yang, I get that you like to be inventive, but this is a bit much!” Blake couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

Jaune tried to be helpful. “Do you even like guys, Blake? Not that there’s anything wrong with it if you don’t,” he quickly added.

“Yes, I like guys, Jaune!” Blake snapped. “I just happen to be with a girl at the moment.”

“I like guys too!” Yang put in. “And…well, I’m just with Blake right now, but you know, if she wants to…”

Blake covered her eyes. “Yang. _Why_ do you think I want a threesome?”

Yang wasn’t sure if she wanted to punch a wall or bang her head against it. “You were talking about how much you love creampies. You and Weiss. Just a few minutes ago. I heard you as I came up to the room.”

Blake’s eyes widened, then her cheeks bulged, then she burst into peals of laughter. Yang and Jaune were now the ones staring, at her, but Blake was laughing so hard she fell off the chair. “What?” Yang demanded.

“Oh my…oh gods…you thought…oh, that’s…” Blake wiped her eyes and got her breath back. “Yang…we were talking about _pies._ You know, lemon pies, cherry pies, banana _cream_ pies—which are my favorite because Mom makes them.”

“You…” Yang sat down in the chair. She’d never felt so stupid. Even after getting her arm cut off. “Oh shit. I thought…” She buried her face in her hands. “Aw, damn. I’m such a dumbass.”

Blake touched her leg reassuringly. “It’s okay, Yang. You were trying to be nice to me.”

“And me,” Jaune said. He smiled as they looked at him. “C’mon, you two. To be with both of you?”

“Man’s dream, right?” Blake wasn’t offended. There’d been times she’d fantasized bringing more than just Adam to the bed when she was with the White Fang. It had never happened, of course, as posessive as Adam was, but the fantasy had been there all the same.

“Not just that. You’re both…really great people. I mean, yeah, you’re both freaking gorgeous, but you’re my friends too.” Jaune moved the pillow; he was no longer hard. “But I think we’d make a big mistake if we did that.”

“I agree.” Blake got up and put an arm around Yang’s shoulders. “Yang, I really, truly do appreciate that you were thinking about me. But right now…you’re all I need.” She giggled. “And then some. I’m not sure there’s enough of me for _you.”_

Yang put her hand on Blake’s. “Thanks, I think. I guess it was a stupid idea. I should’ve…gods, I’m dumb.”

“No, you’re not. Just a little impulsive.” Blake kissed her hair. “C’mon. Let’s go back to our room.” She smiled at Jaune. “I feel like I need to apologize.”

“Nah, you’re good. I won’t lie—it would’ve been awesome—but I don’t want to risk your friendship over one night of fun.” 

Blake pulled Yang to her feet, then went over and kissed Jaune on the cheek. A second later, so did Yang. Jaune grinned hugely. The two girls walked to the door, and Blake ushered Yang out first, then turned back to Jaune. “I’ll send Weiss over,” she whispered quickly, then shut the door.

Jaune sat on the bed for a minute, then had to laugh himself. He’d meant what he said: certainly he wouldn’t have said no. But it wouldn’t have been right. _And besides,_ Jaune sighed, _I might not have survived._ When Team RWBY wasn’t within earshot, the members of Team JNR liked to joke that Blake was probably the only one with enough stamina to keep up with Yang.

As promised, Weiss knocked on the door a moment later. He opened it. She stood there in her pajamas, looking a bit perplexed. “Blake and Yang sent me over. I think those two are about to do something disgusting, so I don’t mind coming over here and—“ He cut her off by kissing her. She hesitated for a moment, then melted into the kiss, putting her arms around Jaune. When they broke it, Weiss said breathlessly, “Well, then.”

Jaune closed the door behind her. “Can I ask something personal?”

“Given that you have your hands under my dress and are currently massaging my breasts—I didn’t say stop—certainly.”

“Did you get a shot?”

Weiss nodded. “Yes, of course. Condoms _are_ rather expensive these days due to the embargo, and I understand your reluctance to go down to the free clinic, so…why do you ask?”

Jaune lifted off her shirt and delicately kissed both nipples. “Oh…no reason.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like Blake said, Yang's not dumb, but she can still be a little impulsive. And she really does want what's best for her friends. And it all worked out for everyone, right?


	31. Man, I Feel Like a Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss comes back to Team RWBY's dorm to find Ruby in tears. Ruby's scared that she isn't a good lover for Oscar, and that she'll lose him, so she asks Weiss for help.
> 
> And Weiss is a good friend. Though maybe not quite that good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second of Otter Boom's suggestions, for Weiss and Ruby to engage in a little roleplaying. It's not quite White Rose, but I think it still fits pretty well. 
> 
> The reason why I wrote this one immediately was because it serves as a sequel to the last chapter, "Slice of Your Pie," and begins about an hour or so after Weiss and Jaune started in on each other. (We'll give Jaune the benefit of the doubt in that he can last an hour.)

Weiss Schnee walked back towards Team RWBY’s shared dorm room, satisfied with herself and with a slight but pleasant ache between her legs. Jaune _was_ getting better at this. Tonight he’s been rather enthusiastic and aggressive for some reason, but Weiss didn’t mind. 

She stopped in front of the dorm room door and cautiously put an ear to it. Blake and Yang had asked her politely to go over to Jaune's, so they were probably up to something gross. Weiss didn’t mind that her two friends were in a relationship, but she also knew that Yang had a distressingly inventive mind when it came to sex, and Blake had a tendency to go along with it. _One day I’m going to walk in and one of them is going to be hanging by their heels from the ceiling or something…_

Instead, she faintly heard crying.

Weiss opened the door. Yang and Blake might be into some weird stuff, but they would never, ever hurt each other. However, it was neither the brawler nor the Faunus, but Ruby. She was dressed in her pajamas, and sat against Weiss’ bed, knees drawn up to her chin, her face in her knees. Weiss closed the door and looked around: Ruby was the only one in the room. “Ruby?”

Ruby looked up. Her face was streaked with tears. “Hey, Weiss.”

“What’s wrong? Where’s Blake and Yang?”

Ruby silently pointed towards the desk. There was a note jotted in Blake’s precise handwriting. It said that they had gone out clubbing and wouldn’t be home until late. _They sent me over to Jaune, and then left? What the hell?_ Then again, Weiss thought, it wasn’t like she minded _that_ much. 

But Ruby was the more important issue. She turned and sat down next to her friend. “What’s wrong?” she asked again.

“I was with Oscar tonight,” Ruby began. “Doing…well, you know…”

“Sure.” Weiss smiled in spite of the situation. Ruby seemed always so reluctant to admit that she was in a physical relationship. 

“And…um…Weiss. If I tell you this, promise you won’t get grossed out.”

Weiss shook her head. At Beacon, she would’ve already been grossed out, but a lot had happened to Team RWBY since then. “Go ahead.”

“Well…okay. Oscar and I, well, we wanted to try something new.”

_Uh oh,_ Weiss thought. She hoped Ruby’s “something new” wasn’t as crazy as something her sister would come up with. “Okay.”

“So…I was going to try…er…oral. We’ve tried it before, you see, and, well…”

That mental image was not something Weiss needed, but she was a good friend and only nodded. “All right. What happened?”

“I wasn’t really good at it. In fact…I was terrible. I’m always terrible at it. And it just ruined everything. I felt so bad! Oscar, he was so nice about it, but…” Ruby sniffled. “What am I going to do, Weiss? I don’t want him to get bored with me! And I heard guys really like oral!”

“They do,” Weiss told her. “So do girls, by the way.”

Ruby flushed bright red. “I know,” she said in a small voice. “Oscar…he’s… _really_ good at it.” Of course, Weiss reflected, Ruby had no idea what good oral would be, since Oscar was her first and only sexual partner. Then Weiss smiled at herself. _And what kind of expert are you, Weiss Schnee?_ she asked herself. _The only guy you’ve been with is Jaune. And he’s pretty damn good at it too._ She coughed, mainly to cover her own blush. Luckily, Ruby was staring into space and didn’t notice it. “I want to reciprocate, Weiss. Oscar is so good to me, and I feel like I’m just using him.”

Weiss put an arm around her. “You’re not just using him, Ruby. Oscar knows that.”

“I guess,” Ruby sighed. “I just want to be good for him, Weiss.” Her blush deepened. “Um, Weiss? I know you and Jaune…you know. Do you guys do that?”

“It’s really none of your business!” Weiss snapped, then stopped herself. There was no reason to get defensive. They were all adults, and it wasn’t like Ruby was going to tell everyone. She wasn’t Yang or Nora. “Sorry. And, well, yes. Yes, we do.” Now it was Weiss who was turning red. 

“I hate to ask, but are you…good at it?”

Weiss thought for a moment. Was she? She supposed she was. Jaune had never complained, certainly. “I believe so.”

“Can you…oh man…can you tell me how?”

“Uh…” Weiss, to her credit, found herself wishing she _could_ tell Ruby how. After all, Ruby just wanted to be good to Oscar. But there was really no way of telling her; even Weiss couldn’t put it into words. She almost said to go on the internet, but Ruby Rose loose on the internet would end up in utter disaster. 

Weiss abruptly realized that the only way she was going to help Ruby was to show her. She resolutely stood, walked over to the little refrigerator, and began rummaging around. Ruby stared after her. “What are you doing?”

“Finding something—ah, here we go.” She turned around and was holding a dill pickle. “I don’t know how to tell you, Ruby, so I’m going to have to demonstrate.”

Ruby made a face. “I’m okay with that, but dill makes me hurl.”

Weiss sighed. “Fine!” She turned back to the refrigerator. “This works better anyway.” She held up a banana. Ruby shrugged and nodded, so Weiss closed the fridge and walked back to the beds. “Now then…” She began to peel the banana, only for Ruby to look at her strangely. “What?”

“Nothing,” Ruby replied. “It’s just…peeling…it’s weird.”

That _was_ a little strange, so Weiss quickly got the peel off and threw it away. She held it up, at an angle, so that it looked like an erect penis. Weiss remembered when her mother had taken it upon herself to give the birds-and-bees talk to her daughters. She’d been cold sober when they started, but was so embarrassed that by the time she got to the condom over the banana stage, she was punishing the wine quite severely. Weiss and Winter didn’t have the heart to tell her that they’d already learned it in school. “All right. So this is, um, Oscar. Now show me how you went about it.”

Ruby looked up at her. “Seriously? I thought you were going to show me.”

“I am. But first I need to see what you did wrong.” She handed the banana to Ruby.

“Okay.” Ruby stared at it for a moment, then moved the banana to her lips. She leaned forward and bit the end off. Weiss’ eyes rounded in horror. Ruby quickly swallowed the piece of banana and exploded into laughter. Weiss shook her head. “Really?” she asked.

“Sorry, sorry,” Ruby snickered. “I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Do you want me to help or not?”

“Sorry,” Ruby apologized again. She reversed the banana to its intact side, and this time put her lips around it. That was as far as she got before she started giggling again. Weiss wore a look of disgust. “I can’t,” Ruby snorted. “It’s just…it’s a banana. I mean, it’s nothing like Oscar’s, y’know, thing.”

Weiss was about to ask how it wasn’t, but then realized that hearing about length, girth, angle, and distinguishing characteristics of Oscar Pine’s genitalia would make it very difficult to look the former farmhand in the eye the next day. Ruby handed her the banana, but Weiss shoved it away. “I’m not going to show you on that now!” she exclaimed, nauseated. “Not after where your lips have been!”

“I brushed my teeth!” Ruby yelled back. 

“Still!” Weiss almost told Ruby to just forget the whole thing, but then she knew her battle partner would turn those damn silver puppy eyes on her, and she’d end up helping Ruby anyway. That had also been their only banana, and truth to tell, Weiss wasn’t a big fan of dill pickles either. Blake scarfed them down, which was why they had them at all. _What to do…_

Then Weiss had an idea. It was a terrible idea, and the thought of doing it made her stomach flip over. But dammit, she was a Schnee and Schnees never backed up from a challenge. She reached into the locker under Yang’s bed and quickly opened it. “Don’t tell your sister I know the combination to her locker,” she told Ruby.

“Considering I know it too, don’t worry about it,” Ruby answered. A locker combination of 1-2-3-4 wasn’t exactly cracking the Atlas Reserve Bank. Then it was her eyes that rounded. “Weiss, what the actual fu—“

“I’m doing this for you!” Much to Ruby’s surprise and Weiss’ internal disgust, she’d pulled out a strap-on. “And don’t ask how I know your sister has one of these!”

“How did you know my sister had one of those—“

“Because I’m the only one out of this team that locks the frigging door!” Weiss yelled. She looked at it and shuddered. “Gods, I hope they disinfected this.” Just to be sure, she went into the bathroom and washed it.

Ruby was on her feet. “Do you mean…you want me to…”

“In the words of one of your favorite wrestlers, Ruby, yes! I want you to suck it!” Weiss finished disinfecting it and put it on, hoping she’d gotten it right. It wasn’t all that difficult. “Oh gods,” she groaned softly, “I just told my best friend to suck it.”

But Schnees did not back down, so she walked out of the bathroom. It was quite the sight. Weiss had her hair down, she was dressed in her nightdress, and around her waist was the strap on, which was frankly enormous, pointed upwards at what Weiss thought would be a vastly uncomfortable angle, and painted a shocking shade of pink. She’d half expected it to be black and yellow.

Ruby collapsed. It was slow, like watching a building go down in a controlled demolition, but she collapsed to the floor, shrieking with laughter. Weiss stared down at her. “You want my help or not?”

Ruby was laughing so hard she was pounding the floor with her fists. “Oh gods, Weiss!” she barely got out, her face as red as Crescent Rose. “I never knew!”

“Never knew what, you dolt?”

“That you were…so…well hung!” That sent Ruby into another paroxysm of mirth.

“I’m done.” Weiss began to unstrap the device.

“No…no, wait…” Ruby got control of herself. She got to her knees, then looked at the strap on. Her laughed died. “That thing’s huge.”

“I think we should be more concerned about Blake at this point.”

“I know, right? I know that would never fit in me.” Ruby grimaced. “I mean…”

“No, don’t feel bad. It wouldn’t fit in me, either.” 

Ruby got closer, then reached up and grabbed the faux penis. “Weiss, uh…look, I hate to say this, but this isn’t going to work. Oscar is _nowhere_ near this big.”

“I don’t know of any male who is.”

Ruby opened her mouth, then shook her head. She tried again. “Nope. Can’t do it.”

Weiss looked at the door. If Yang and/or Blake walked in at this moment, she would throw herself out the window and die with honor. Luckily, no one did. “It does you credit.” Weiss stepped back, unstrapped, and tossed the thing back into Yang’s locker. The two of them sat down again on Weiss’ bed. “I’m sorry, Ruby. I guess I’m bad at this sort of thing myself.”

“You sure you just can’t tell me?” Ruby asked.

“I can’t,” Weiss admitted. “I mean, I don’t have any real technique. I just…put it in. I mean, sometimes I use my tongue, too. I don’t try to stuff Jaune down my throat or anything, and…oh gods, Ruby, shoot me for saying that. Grab Crescent Rose and shoot me.” She hid her face in her hands.

Ruby patted her on the shoulder. “Hey, I don’t do that either. I’m afraid I’ll barf on him. I used my tongue too. Kind of like a lollipop.”

Weiss resolved never to have a lollipop again for the rest of her life. Then she looked at Ruby. “That…actually sounds like an effective technique.”

“It’s not,” Ruby sighed. “Oscar just…you know…loses it. As soon as I put my tongue on him—sorry, it’s totally gross—he just, you know…loses it.”

Weiss grabbed Ruby by the shoulders. “Loses it? He ejaculates?” Ruby nodded sadly. Weiss blinked, then smiled, then grinned, then started giggling. 

“What?”

Weiss hugged Ruby. “Oh, Ruby. You’re not bad at oral. Oscar just gets too excited.”

“But I thought that meant I was bad at it!”

“Not at all. He just needs to learn to control himself a little, that’s all. It’s very common for that to happen to new couples.” She pulled back from the hug and shrugged. “It happened to me and Jaune the first time. He couldn’t hold back either.” It had happened the second time, too. After that, she had Jaune start reciting multiplication tables in his head.

“Then what do I do?”

Weiss winked. “Well, you two will just have to practice.”

Ruby smiled. “I guess so.” She hugged Weiss. “Weiss, you’re the best friend on Remnant. You were willing to try all that, just for me and my messed-up sex life.”

“Of course. I’m your friend.” Weiss gave Ruby a squeeze, then stood up. “All right. Well, don’t wait up for me.”

“Where are you going?”

“Jaune.”

“Why?”

Weiss wiggled her eyebrows. “To practice.” She nodded towards Yang’s locker. “And honestly, I really need someone to make me feel like a woman right now. A lot.” 

“Ohhh.” Ruby got to her feet as well. “You know, I wonder if Oscar would be up for…more practice.”

“Worst he can say is no.” They grinned conspiratorially and left the dorm room together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Weiss. You've come so far from calling Ruby Crater Face.


	32. I Hate Myself For Loving You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam Taurus is drowning his sorrows at an Argus bar when Cinder Fall arrives. Will sparks fly, or will they just kill each other?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done at the request of Doppler. This is something of a sequel to Chapter 7 of this fic, "Hit Me With Your Best Shot," in which Adam isn't killed by Yang and Blake, but lets them go after realizing that Yang brings a lot more to the table than he does. 
> 
> It's a bit tough writing two evil people, and with all that's happening in the world, it was tough just to sit down and try to write something funny. Well, I hope it gives you a laugh, because we could all use one.

Adam Taurus sat at the bar, nursing his drink, and sighed. Long and hard. 

It was over. He’d finally come to accept it: Blake Belladonna would never be his again. He’d never hold her in his arms, he’d never kiss those full lips again, he’d never do that thing she loved between her…well, he didn’t need to think about that. But Blake was with Yang Xiao Long now, and after seeing what Yang could bring to the table, he honestly couldn’t blame his former lover. _Gad, but she had big bazoombas,_ Adam thought to himself. _And that butt. I worship at the altar of the Bellabooty, but, wow._

“Vale whiskey,” he heard a voice say. 

“How would you like that?” the bartender asked.

“Straight. It’s been a long day.”

Adam thought the name sounded familiar, and turned to see who it was. To his surprise, he recognized Cinder Fall. She looked a bit different—she wasn’t dressed in red, but in black, a jacket thrown over her left shoulder, and her hair was shorter and combed down over her eyepatch. At the same time, she turned and saw him. “Adam?” she asked in surprise. “Adam Taurus?”

He smiled wanly. “Cinder.”

“But…I thought you were dead.”

“I heard the same about you.”

“Touche.” Cinder waited as the bartender poured her drink. “So how are things lately?”

“Shitty. The White Fang’s been destroyed and I lost my girlfriend. You?”

Cinder toyed with the glass. “About the same. I didn’t get the Relic, the Spring Maiden encased me in ice and threw me into a canyon, and Salem’s pissed at me.” She tossed back half the drink. “I’m headed to Atlas. You?”

“Hadn’t really thought about it.” 

Cinder swirled the liquor in her glass. “If I were you, I wouldn’t go back to Menagerie.” She watched him for a few moments. Adam was no longer wearing his mask. She hadn’t seen him without it before. The SDC brand over his eye stamped him forever, while his left eye was a red, discolored slash. It reminded her a little…of herself. She wondered if he could see out of it. “Hey,” she told him. “You want to get seriously fucked up drunk tonight?”

Adam chuckled. “Sure, why not. I have nothing else to do.”

“Bartender,” Cinder snapped. “Close up your bar and leave the keys.” When he hesitated, flames erupted around her good eye, and Adam put a hand on the katana that lay on the bar. 

“Can-can I have some lien—“

“You’re lucky we leave you with your life!” Cinder hissed. “Now get out!” The bartender nodded hurriedly, threw the keys on the bar, and fled out the back door. She smiled, grabbed the whiskey, and poured herself some more. “What can I do for you, Adam?”

He reached across the bar and grabbed two bottles of beer. “This will do for me.”

Cinder nodded and took a shot. “So. Lost your girlfriend, huh? The Belladonna girl.”

“Yes. Thank you _ever_ so much for reminding me.” Adam took the top off of one of the bottles.

She snorted. “Hey, we’re drowning our sorrows tonight. So what was your deal with her? I mean, she’s cute and all, but there’s a hundred other girls just like her.”

Adam took a drink. “Not like Blake. She was… _is_ …beautiful. And so full of life. And she was so…just…”

Cinder gave him a knowing look. “Let me guess. She was your first.”

Adam hesitated, then sighed again. “Yes.”

“Mm. I thought so.” She drained her glass.

“Who was your first?” Adam asked.

“Don’t start, or I’ll set you on fire.” Cinder went to pour another shot, then just grabbed the bottle. She saw his fingers twitch over the katana, and paused. “Sorry. Let’s just say he wasn’t Prince Charming after all.” Cinder took a long drink. “So what. Fuck ‘em. Power’s my turn-on now.”

“But…” Adam shook his head. “You don’t understand.”

Cinder leaned closer. “I do understand, Adam. Trust me. And I tell you, if you need a pair of tits to wake up to every morning, hire a maid.” Adam had to laugh a little at that. “What did she leave you for, anyway? Other than she didn’t like the White Fang anymore.”

Adam took another pull at his beer. “Yang Xiao Long.”

“The blonde bimbo with the big boobs?”

“Yeah.” Adam spread his hands. “I mean, I guess I get it. Blake wants all that lovey-dovey bullshit that she gets out of her stupid books. And Yang has those boobs, and that blonde hair—she’s a natural, by the way—“

“I know. Showered with her at Beacon, once.” Cinder realized how that sounded. “Er, because it was after gym and I was posing as a student, remember? Ha ha!” She finished the bottle and grabbed one of Adam’s beers. He picked up another. “She has an ass on her, too.”

“That’s right,” Adam said. “You sort of…play for both teams, don’t you?”

“Don't be a hater.” She cracked open the beer. “Adam, so she threw you over for the bimbo brawler. Big whoop. She’s not worth it. She’s all dour and gothy and ‘oh, I’m so emo, nobody likes me, I must run away!’ You’re better off without her.” Cinder drank. “Get back out there and get back on that horse. Handsome dude like you will pull in the ladies."

“But the White Fang—“

Cinder slammed down the bottle. “Screw the White Fang! They didn’t understand how smart you are. They followed that striped dumbass Sienna Khan for how long? And you decided it was time for new leadership, and they went to pieces. Bah! Hell with ‘em.” She was starting to feel the effects of the whiskey. “Now Salem, she knows how to treat people right.”

“I thought she was pissed at you.” He finished the beer and opened another. 

“She is, but I kinda deserve it.” Cinder regarded her reflection in the whiskey glass. “I should’ve known Raven was the Spring Maiden. There was no way that flat-chested geek--Venereral or Verdant or whatever--was a Maiden. Doesn’t matter. I’ll get the next one. That dried up old bitch in Atlas—Fria or Freya or something—she’s got one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel. I’ll kill her and have the power of the Winter Maiden too. Maybe get the Relic of Creation while I’m at it. That should get me back in the good graces of Salem.” She took a long swig of whiskey. “Anyway, Salem’s all right as a boss. Pays good, medical and dental too.”

“I don’t think I could be a henchman,” Adam said quietly. He liked to lead, and be the leader. He wasn’t a follower. That was Blake’s thing. 

Cinder slammed the bottle down again, so hard it almost broke. “You think I’m a fuckin’ _henchman?_ Er, hench _woman?_ ” She gave him the finger. “Fuck you, Adam! I’m Salem’s right hand!”

Adam suddenly felt combative. Part of what Cinder said made sense, but on the other hand, he didn’t like what she’d said about Blake. “Isn’t that the very definition of henchman?”

Cinder poked him in the chest. “Oh yeah? Well, I’m not sitting here in a bar, all depressed because my girlfriend went full lesbo!” She drank the rest of the beer and threw the bottle into the fireplace. “Says something about how bad you are in the sack.”

“Or maybe I’m _that_ good,” Adam smirked. “Maybe I’m so damn good that she knows no man will ever be able to satisfy her the same way again!” He slammed back the rest of his beer and grabbed another. “So Blake has to go lesbian because no dick will ever be the same!”

“That makes no damn sense!” Cinder argued. She grabbed another beer too. “Yang probably just eats her out better!”

Adam looked at her through the bottom of the beer bottle and carefully set it down. To those that knew Adam Taurus, that was usually the first signal to hit the floor, because the katana was coming out next, and heads would quite literally roll. “You know what makes no sense?” he snarled. “The fact that you, the Fall Maiden, got your arm blown off by a 15-year old.” He grinned at her. “And then got your ass kicked by some MILF.”

Cinder purpled with rage, and her eye began glowing. “Why you…Ruby Rose is a silver-eyed warrior!”

Adam shrugged. “So what! She’s not much more than a kid. You’re the Fall Maiden. In fact, from what I heard, that milquetoast Pyrrha Nikos damn near whipped your ass.”

Smoke began to curl up from Cinder’s human fingers. “At least I…she’s…” She defiantly drank more beer. “Shut up!” she yelled. “Get out!”

“I was here first!” Adam insisted.

“I’m the Fall Maiden!”

“Who hasn’t done a damn thing but get kicked around like a redheaded stepchild!”

“Ha! You’d know all about that!” She nodded towards his bright red hair. “I bet you color that, you vain prick. Hiding behind a mask because your eye is all fucked up.” Cinder was starting to slur her words.

“You’re one to talk, cyclops! As for my red hair…” Adam chugged the beer, threw the bottle to parts unknown, unhitched his belt, and dropped his pants. “Take a look at that! Natural color!”

Cinder did, though to be honest, she was more looking at what was below the red hair. Adam was not lacking in that department. At all. She drank some more beer, because her mouth had gone suddenly dry. “So it is,” she said quietly. “You know, Adam, I think I know what your problem is.”

“What’s that?” He pulled his pants up, but suddenly they dropped to his ankles again, as Cinder waved her hand. 

“You haven’t had a real woman.”

He slightly misintepreted her words. “I don’t like humans.”

Cinder slowly slid off the bar stool. His eyes went to her black stocking-clad legs, and the very short skirt. “Oh?” she breathed. “Maybe you’ve never been with the right one.” She took two steps and was right in front of him. “We’re built the same, you know.”

“I can’t do this,” Adam said, even as he drew close to her lips.

“Why? Because you still want the little kitty?” Cinder was an inch away from him now, her breath hot on his lips. “Why pet the kitty when you can ride the lightning?” Thunder rolled ominously in the distance. Then she crushed her lips against his. 

Adam, other than one ill-advised fling with Sienna before her untimely demise, had always stayed true to Blake. But now, with Cinder Fall doing her best to explore his mouth, epiglottis and tonsils with her tongue, her skin hot beneath his hands—wait, why were his hands on her shoulder and on the small of her back?—his body abruptly reminded Adam that it had been awhile. Cinder pulled back from the kiss. “Oh. Is that for me?” She looked down and licked her lips. “Kind of small,” she lied. “No wonder Blake left.” Cinder had already discovered that she liked egging him on. Love was something Cinder had discarded long ago; she'd take hate.

Adam saw through it, but found he didn’t mind. He grabbed Cinder around the waist and hoisted her on the bar. With a growl, he pushed her legs apart, shoved her skirt up, and pulled off her panties over her stockings. “I’ll show you why she stayed so long,” he growled, and dived in, running his tongue over her, from the base of her folds to the top.

“That’s…” Cinder’s breath caught in her throat. “That’s…not bad. But I’ve had far better.” Then she gasped, as his tongue found that little nub. “Oh…oh gods.”

“Not the high and mighty Fall Maiden now, are you?” Adam grinned. He gripped the double globes of her rear and _really_ went to work. 

Cinder’s head fell back, and her breathing quickened. _Blake Belladonna,_ she thought to herself, which was becoming increasingly difficult, _you’re an idiot. Oh gods. He’s…is his tongue_ longer _than a human’s? Whoooaaa…I think it is…_ She was sliding backwards on the slick bar, her human fingernails unable to get purchase, so she flung back the cape and dug in the claws on her Grimm hand.

Adam saw it out of the corner of one eye and jumped back. “Holy shit!”

“Sorry!” Cinder waved—with the Grimm hand, which didn’t help. “Sorry! I forgot!” She put the cape back over it. 

“No…it’s okay. Just startled me.” He got closer to her again, but this time reached up and smoothed back her hair. Cinder tried to stop him, but he saw the eyepatch, and the scars on the left side of her face. He bent her forward and kissed the scars. 

“They’re hideous, aren’t they?” Cinder sniffed a little.

“No more hideous than mine.”

She kissed his scars, too. “Come with me to Atlas,” she whispered, on impulse. 

“All right.” He moved her off the bar, and positioned her legs. “But right now, I’d like to come with you another way.”

“Ooh. Smooth talker.” Cinder helped him push inside of her. “Oh. That’s nice.”

“Have you had far better?” Adam taunted.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Anything I need to know about banging the Fall Maiden?” he grinned.

She moved her human hand, and his tunic fell open; she ran a hand over his chest. “Only that when I come, I’ll probably set the place on fire.”

“That’s hot.” 

Cinder playfully slapped Adam’s behind. “Godsdammit, Adam. Leave the puns to the bimbo.” She closed her eye. “Mmmm. You can go a little faster.”

“Nah. I like this.” Adam also knew it would drive Cinder insane. Well, moreso than she already was. He kept up the maddening slow pace as Cinder began to moan and the fireplace began to flicker ominously. He knew Blake had liked this sort of thing— _no, forget her!_ Adam told himself. Cinder had jerked down her shirt, exposing a rather nice looking breast. He wondered if the other one was scarred, then decided he didn’t care. 

Cinder’s moans began to increase in volume and intensity, and she kissed his neck furiously. She felt the Maiden powers surging with the lust, and desperately clamped down on them; she didn’t want to level the town. Then the tension tightening in her snapped, and Cinder threw back her head and screamed. The fireplace exploded in flames, which shot upwards and blew most of the chimney off. Lightning flashed downwards and struck several houses, causing fires to erupt and the fire department to be called. Several of the champagne bottles behind the bar exploded, corks buried into the ceiling and the liquor bubbling out. 

Adam stopped. “That was…different.”

“Mmm.” Cinder collapsed against him, held up by his hands and the bar. “Whew.” Then she noticed his tunic was smoldering a little, and quickly patted out the little flames. “Been awhile.” She kissed him—if licking his lips like an animal could be called kissing. Then she started nibbling at his left earlobe, glorying in the shudder that went through Adam. “Want to go for two—“

Then she noticed the door was open. Standing in the doorway was Neo Politan, a stunned look on her face.

“Neo? What the hell are you doing here?” Cinder demanded, before she remembered that Neo couldn’t reply. 

Neo shut the door. Adam tried to pull out, but Cinder gripped him tighter. The shapeshifter walked briskly forward, jumped behind the bar, grabbed the chalkboard that announced the daily special, and quickly scrawled on it. WENT OUT FOR FOOD, REMEMBER?

Cinder nodded. “Yes.”

Neo returned the nod, erased her words with her sleeve, wrote again, and held up the chalkboard. CAN I JUMP IN?

Adam read the message and shrugged with a smile. “Why not?” He pointed at her. “But you stay as Neo. No transforming into exes.” Neo gave a thumbs-up and pulled down her suspenders. Then she paused and wrote down something else. I LEAVE ON THE HAT.

“Not a problem.” Then Adam started laughing. Cinder joined in, and their laughter shook the night. The town of Argus trembled at the sound. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BWAHAHAHAHA! 
> 
> Neo, Adam and Cinder would actually be frightening as a team.


	33. Electric Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren wants to make love to Nora, but she's worn out from fighting Grimm. She doesn't want to disappoint him, however, so there's got to be a way to supercharge herself.
> 
> And I do mean supercharge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure what to write next, but then Maswartz reminded me that I've barely written any Renora in this collection. In fact, other than Ren banging Salem into insensibility to save Nora, I've really only mentioned them. 
> 
> Time to change that. (And thanks, Maswartz, for the inspiration!)

To people that knew him even a little, Lie Ren was the epitome of calm professionalism. Nothing rattled him. His Semblance was literally being calm. As Semblances went, it wasn’t particularly spectacular like setting yourself on fire or summoning something you’ve killed, but it was quite useful. The downside of Ren’s Semblance was that it tended to make people assume he was unemotional, or cold. That was far from the truth: Ren might not say much, or even smile much, but he was completely dependable, and his friends knew that Ren was a good man who loved his friends.

But it would’ve taken a very close friend to know that Ren, walking down the hallways of the Atlas Academy dorm, was actually quite excited. 

It had surprised no one when Ren and Nora Valkyrie had become “together-together,” more or less officially admitting they were madly in love with each other. And of all the relationships that had blossomed along the way from Beacon to Atlas—Blake and Yang, Oscar and Ruby, and Weiss and Jaune (more or less)—Ren and Nora’s seemed to be the most organic. Absolutely no one was surprised when it became obvious that the two had taken their relationship to the next level, and everyone was happy for them. 

But while it might’ve become so commonplace that their friends didn’t remark on it, for Ren and Nora, it was still kind of new, this physical love. And Ren was excited because tonight, he intended to make sweet, beautiful love to his girlfriend as soon as he got back. It didn’t show on his face other than a slight smile, but that was due to judicious use of his Semblance.

He walked into the dorm room. “Hello, Nora,” he called out, voice just slightly higher than usual. No one else would’ve noticed it, except her.

“Mmpf.”

Ren then saw that Nora was asleep, sprawled over their bed, face down, in her pajamas. Her pink booty shorts did not completely cover her, and the top of her rear’s cleft, and the little dimples above it, teased Ren. He took off his jacket, tunic, gloves and boots, carefully folded and put them aside, and sat down next to her. He admired Nora for a moment, then leaned down and gently kissed her hair. 

Nora’s eyes opened blearily, but she rolled over halfway and smiled. “Hey there,” she said, then lazily reached out and touched his nose. “Boop.” That had been their greeting for a long time. This time he kissed her on her lips. “You look really tired,” he told her.

“Mm-hm. Sorry.” She yawned. “There were some Grimm messing around by the breach in the north wall. No big deal—just a few Beowolves. Yang and me took care of ‘em.” Another yawn. “Just took awhile, and then we had to do some paperwork…didn't get much sleep last night neither...”

Ren sighed, his amorous plans evaporating. Nora was barely awake, and it would not be right to ask her to make love when she was clearly exhausted. “Go on back to sleep, then.”

Nora rubbed her eyes. Again, no one else would’ve noticed the slight inflection of disappointment in Ren’s voice, but she did. After all, they’d been together since they were children. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

She shook her head. “Don’t give me that. What’s wrong?”

Ren stroked her hair gently. “Nothing,” he repeated with a smile. “I was going to make love to you tonight. But we can do it tomorrow. It’s all right.”

Nora slowly sat up, tried to fight off another yawn, and failed. “No…Ren, we can. Just let me wake up here.”

Ren put his hands on her shoulders. “Nora, please. Go back to sleep. It’s okay.”

“I’m not going to…” Yet another yawn. “…leave you hanging like this.” Nora couldn’t count the times that Ren had come back to their room, either at Beacon, Haven or here, and accomodated her with whatever she wanted: companionship, games, sex, or pancakes. No matter how tired he was, Ren would always be there for Nora, so she figured she could damn well be there for him. But her limbs felt like lead, and her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Her body screamed for rest. Even just sitting on the bed, Nora felt her eyelids beginning to droop. Ren left her alone, taking off his shirt and getting ready to change into his own pajamas. Nora glanced around for something that would wake her up, and found it. 

Slowly, she got to her feet and stumbled to the little kitchenette in their room, opened a drawer, and pulled out a fork. Then she walked slowly to a corner of the room, unnoticed by Ren, and knelt. With another yawn, Nora took the fork and jammed it into an electrical wall socket. 

There was instantly a pop, blue light suffused the room for a second, and Ren whirled at the smell of ozone as Nora essentially electrocuted herself. “Nora!” he yelled.

She let go of the fork, which still sparked, and jumped to her feet. She turned to face him, a huge smile on her face and her blue eyes ablaze with electrical energy. “ _That_ did the trick!” she laughed. “Now I’m awake!”

“Nora, that wasn’t necessary!” Ren insisted. Nora might not ever die from being electrocuted, but he knew it still hurt her. “Are you in pain?”

“Nope!” She cracked her knuckles. “Let’s bang!”

_Uh oh,_ Ren thought. That was about all he had time for, as the _Boop_ T-shirt was tossed away with one step, and the pink shorts with the next. Nora Valkyrie naked was never hard on the eyes: petite she might be, but everything was there and then some, from the somewhat large breasts, to the little patch of red hair between her legs, and the muscled arms and legs—to say nothing of the cute face and the pale blue eyes that, unlike Weiss Schnee, melted rather than froze. Ren wasn’t sure if her nipples were hardened because she was turned on or because they’d just had several hunded volts worth of electricity through them. He frantically got his pants and underwear off before she would’ve torn them off, but before Ren could do anything else, Nora was already across the bed and grabbing his semi-hard penis.

There was another pop and Ren screamed in pain. “Oops!” Nora said. “Sorry. Forgot to ground myself.” She was putting out enough static electricity to light Mantle.

Ren fought the urge to cradle himself. Electricity might make Nora’s nipples hard, but it did _not_ work on the male anatomy that way—at least not his. “Ow,” he said. 

“Aw, poor baby.” Nora slid off the bed, next to Ren, and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. They both jumped a little at the static shock, but soon enough they were kissing, their arms around each other. Nora smiled. “That better?” she whispered.

“Can’t you tell?” Ren smiled back. She could feel the warmth as he began getting erect again, moving against her stomach.

“Just kissing me,” she said with wonder. “You get hard just kissing me.” 

“That’s because I love you.”

“Heh. I love you too.” She kissed him again, and moved around him, her hands running down from his pectorals, over the flat stomach, to fondle him to full mast. She kissed at his neck, then reached back and took a quick double handful of his rear. Ren rolled his eyes, but laughed softly as she gripped him around the middle.

Then Nora suplexed him into the bed. Luckily, Ren got his shoulders up to take the impact there, rather than his neck, but it still knocked the wind out of him. She let go, squirmed out from under him, and with a battle cry. Jumped astride him. Before Ren could even get his breath, she’d grabbed his erection and practically shoved him inside her. “Oh, yeah, Ren!” she cried happily. “Oh _hell_ yeah!”

“Nora, wait—“ He was barely on the bed, his legs sticking out, and he was afraid that they would both end up on the floor. 

_“Woo-hoo!”_ Nora was going up and down, tossing her head and waving her arm like she was a cowgirl breaking a stallion. “Yeah, Ren! Screw me like you’re from the government and it’s tax season!”

“Oh, hell,” Ren sighed. There was no point in trying to resist: when Nora was in the zone, it was just time to hold on and give of his best. So he did, meeting her thrusts with his own, even as his ribs audibly creaked from being squeezed by Nora’s thighs. Ren felt his Aura compensating, otherwise the creaking would’ve been replaced by cracking noises. Ren was always afraid Nora could actually kill him that way, which was why he was always certain his Aura was fully replenished before making love to her.

Not that Ren had much experience, but he knew—even if it was from accidentally overhearing some of his friends, or hearing them bragging about it when they’d had too much to drink—that women were all different in bed when they were turned on. Ruby would make little squeaking noises, Yang would start cursing, Blake would purr (he’d never heard that, but Yang had bragged about it when she thought Ren was out of earshot), and Weiss would moan and occasionally scream. Pyrrha had been so quiet that only when he’d noticed her hands moving under her blankets did Ren know she was pleasuring herself, when she thought the rest of Team JNPR were asleep back at Beacon.

Nora, on the other hand, could do any and all of those things, except maybe the purring. She could moan with abandon, scream when she was rocked by an orgasm, yell at him to fuck her harder if she was in that kind of mood, be fairly quiet if they were slowly making love, and even squeak a bit sometimes. But most of the time she laughed, and the closer Nora got to her peak, the more and harder she laughed. It was one reason Ren had made sure that they had been assigned the most soundproofed room in Atlas Academy. 

At the moment, her laughter was so maniacal that Salem would’ve found it unsettling. She was coming down onto Ren’s hips with crushing force, and Ren could tell his Aura was struggling to protect him from friction burns. Nora threw back her head and gave a screaming peal, and Ren felt her inner walls tighten as she hit her limit. “ _Wow!”_ Nora yelled, as she spasmed around him. _“Wheee!”_

Her laughter subsided to uncontrollable giggling, and she played with his nipples. “That was fun, Ren!”

He couldn’t help but smile. That face would never get old to look at. He caressed her breasts. “It’s not over yet,” he told her, though he wasn’t sure where he was going to get the energy to finish. Or the Aura. At this rate, he was going to have to call Jaune to get his Aura enhanced, if he hoped to survive.

Nora understood. “I gotcha.” She slid Ren out of her, then went to work with her hands. Ren groaned. “Almost there?” she grinned. She kept one hand going while the other found the first clothing she could, which turned out to be her shirt. She shrugged, and when Ren gritted his teeth and gasped out her name, she covered his member with the shirt, and caught his seed with that. She milked him dry, wadded up the shirt, and tossed it into the clothes hamper. “Needed to be washed anyway.” Then she bent down and gently kissed his deflating organ. “Boop.”

Ren rolled over so he was completely on the bed, and Nora hopped in next to him, snuggling close. “Thanks, Renny,” she said, kissing his shoulders. “We’ll let you rest a bit, then it’s on to round two!” He didn’t respond. “Ren?” she asked, then looked. "Reeen?"

He was sound asleep.

“Aww,” Nora said, a little disappointed but still pretty satisfied. “I guess he’s all tuckered out. They work you too hard, Renny.” Then she snuggled up again, giggled some more, and held her lover close through the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww. If there's an "old marrieds" couple in RWBY, it's Renora.


	34. The Time is Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter and Qrow are making love when Weiss interrupts them. But the younger Schnee sister is acting strange. Why does she want Winter's swimsuit? And where's she going in such a hurry?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was having a bit of trouble coming up with what I wanted to do next. CJ Lowder had suggested Weiss interrupting Winter and Qrow, I had an idea I swiped from Phil Foglio's "Sex and D&D," and then Beach Party suggested a beach orgy. (Not sure I can write that one. I have enough trouble coordinating mass fight scenes; an orgy might just be a fic too far. Where does everyone go?) So I combined all the ideas together, and voila!

“That north wall needs to be looked…ah…at,” Winter Schnee said. “It’s…mmm…a _hole_ in our defenses…oh yesss...”

Qrow Branwen reflected that this was an odd conversation to be having when both the parties were naked, and Winter was on all fours, and Qrow was behind her. Some women would scream during sex, some would moan passionately, but Winter would talk, usually about whatever current military problem she was dealing with. Qrow wasn’t sure if she did it as a means of stress relief, if it was an unconscious attempt to maintain control of herself when she really was about to _lose_ control, or it was just a personality quirk. He stopped thrusting and leaned forward. “Winter…why don’t you just make weird noises like other women?”

Winter looked over her shoulder at him and shrugged. “I’m sorry. My brain has a tendency to just keep going. It’s why I don’t sleep much.” She tossed her hair out of her face. With her hair down, Qrow thought, Winter was even more gorgeous than she was with it pinned up. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, and pushed back against him. Then she reached up, balancing on knees and one hand, took one of his hands, and put it on a dangling breast. “You just need to work harder, Qrow. Don’t be so lazy.”

“I’ll show _you,”_ Qrow grinned, and resumed his pounding away, this time kneading a nipple with his fingers. Winter abruptly stopped talking about Mantle’s north wall; her breathing deepened and became quicker. 

Then the door to her quarters slid open. “Winter, sorry to disturb you,” Weiss Schnee said, dressed in a warm overcoat and pants. “It’s something of an emergency, and…oh.” She stopped, staring down at them, and blinked. “Oh,” Weiss said again. 

Winter and Qrow stopped, and Winter hung her head. “Weiss, why don’t you _knock?”_

“You said I could come in anytime!” Weiss insisted. “You gave me a key!”

“That was with the implication that you would knock or otherwise announce yourself! Do you just walk into Team RWBY’s quarters unannounced?” Winter began to stand, but Weiss waved her hands frantically. Right now all Weiss could see was the sides of two pairs of butts and one breast; seeing her older sister naked was one thing, but her brain was not going to be handle seeing Ruby and Yang’s uncle Qrow naked as well. Winter remained on all fours, as embarrassing as the position was, even if it was hard to yell when doing it doggy style.

“I just never expected to see…you…and Qrow…on the _carpet…_ I mean, you didn’t even go to the _bed…_ ”

Qrow spread his hands and smiled, trying to help the situation, which was not easy considering he was still inside Weiss’ sister. “Hey, you go where passion takes you, kid.”

“What do you _want?”_ Winter demanded.

Weiss turned a deeper shade of red. “Erhm…could I borrow your…wow, this is awkward…swimsuit?”

“Why?” She glared at her sister. “I swear to the gods, if this is for some weird cosplay thing with you and Jaune…”

If Weiss got any redder, she would give Ilia Amitola a run for her money. She knew that Winter knew that Weiss occasionally got frisky with Jaune Arc, but it was a subject neither sister mentioned, just as it was a subject neither sister mentioned that Winter was sleeping with Qrow. “It’s not, I swear. It’s just that, well, mine is at our Manor, and you understand I can’t go back there…”

Admittedly, Winter was not in her best mindset at the moment. She was carrying on a conversation with her younger sister while naked, while her lover was still basically committing the capital act with her, while on all fours on the carpet two feet from her front door. “Fine, whatever!” Winter yelled. “Top drawer, to the left.” Had Winter been thinking straight, she would’ve asked Weiss why she didn’t just go buy her own damned swimsuit, or why she would want Winter’s, since Winter was taller than Weiss.

“Right!” Weiss dashed from the living room, ducked into Winter’s bedroom, and jerked open the top drawer. She quickly found the swimsuit, stuffed it into her purse, and ran back out the front door. “Sorry sorry sorry!” Weiss stammered and she slammed the door behind her.

Winter sighed. “I’m the one that’s sorry.” She slid Qrow out of her and stood. The mood was gone now; she couldn’t just start up again. “I knew I should’ve locked the door. I didn’t think. You have that effect on me.” She smiled at Qrow as he got to his feet. He stepped forward and drew her into an embrace, and Winter leaned against him. “That was odd for Weiss, though. She was raised better than that.”

Qrow shrugged. “Hey, from what my nieces tell me, Team RWBY has a bad habit of not knocking with each other either.” When Yang had confessed to her uncle that she was in a relationship with Blake Belladonna, part of that explanation had included the various times Ruby or Weiss had come upon them; Yang had been entirely too forward with her information. The last thing Qrow really needed to hear about was his nieces’ sex lives, since he distinctly remembered bouncing them on his knee when they were little; it was hard to realize they were grown women now. 

“Weiss has forgotten _all_ her etiquette,” Winter grumped. 

“Not a lot of room for it in a combat zone.” Qrow smoothed her hair, and Winter put a kiss on his chest. “You sure the mood’s _completely_ gone?”

“Well…” 

Qrow needed no further invitation. With a squeak of surprise from Winter, he pushed her up against her sofa, hoisted her up and sat her down on the back of it, and slid her thighs forward. Then he entered Winter again and began riding away. Winter was precariously balanced on the back of the sofa, and the only way she could keep from falling off—which might have led to embarassing consequences for her and an emergency room trip for Qrow—was to lean backwards, leaving herself head down as Qrow kept a good grip on her thighs. She was completely helpless, her arms either in the air or barely on the sofa, her head on one of the cushions as her hair fanned out across it. She could not do anything.

Winter smiled. She kind of liked this. No, she amended as a gasp opened her lips, she _really_ liked this. 

Qrow put his back into it, and before long, Winter was indeed making weird noises that rose to a crescendo as she came, hard. Even as she did, she felt Qrow tense, and empty himself into her, groaning her name. 

They remained in the strange position for a moment, and Winter chuckled. “Well. This is different.”

“You know me,” Qrow puffed out. “Always up for something new.” He let go and pulled out, and with a yelp, Winter slid off the sofa backwards onto the floor, ending up with her feet sticking into the air. “Qrow!” she yelled. "Help!"

He laughed and came around the sofa to help her up. “You’re so damn beautiful from any position.”

“Why, thank you, kind sir. And shut up.” Winter kissed his nose. 

“What do you want to do now?” he asked.

“Given that you swept me off my feet, tore off my clothes, and had your wicked way of me before I barely had a chance to say hello, I thought we might go out to dinner tonight.” She winked. “And because you said I needed to be more adventurous—though I’m not sure how more adventurous I can be after the gymnastics we performed just now—I thought about doing something completely out of character.”

Qrow ran his hands through her white hair again. He loved her hair. “Like what?”

Winter smiled. “I know you’ve stopped drinking, but what would you say to a Vacuo club?”

“You mean one with hardwood floors, leather chairs, twangy music, and a mechanical Grimm ride?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

He reached down and threw her underwear to her. “Hell yeah!”

Though the residents of Atlas knew that, for a truly rowdy time, you hopped the air shuttle to Mantle, there were still some rough-around-the-edges places in Atlas as well—they were just better policed. The Scarlet Nape was just such a place, and exactly as Winter had described it. It was not a place one would find a Schnee, especially the oldest of the Schnee heirs, but Winter had found that, lately, she rather enjoyed doing things that a Schnee shouldn’t be doing. It was rather liberating. 

There was no live music, but a jukebox that played something about trucks, farms, and women who left their men. Winter, whose musical tastes ran towards strict orchestral classics, thought it sounded like a cat being murdered, but Qrow was humming along with it, so she tolerated it. This was more for him, anyway, as a reward for being a good lover. A sweet tingle ran up from her groin; they were going to have to try that position again soon.

Going across the scuffed hardwood floor, Winter was taken aback to find that the bar was a bit crowded tonight. They made it to the bar, which was about the only place they could find seats, and Winter ordered a beer, a good Atlesian ale. Qrow ordered a club soda, staying true to his pledge to stop drinking. Winter, dressed in her uniform, felt out of place, whereas the scruffy Qrow, even in his new combat togs, looked entirely _in_ place. She wore her hair down, as if that could disguise her, but no one paid her any mind. “I’m sorry!” she half-shouted in her ear over the din of people talking and the music. “I thought it would be more empty!”

“No sweat!” Qrow replied. “Wonder what’s going on?”

They found out a minute later. An emcee got up on a flight of stairs up to a ring that both Winter and Qrow just noticed; it had been hidden by the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages!” he announced. “Scarlet Nape proudly brings to you…Mud Wrestling Spectaculaaaaaaar!” The place erupted in cheers.

Qrow leaned against the bar, looking in that direction with interest. “Hey now,” he said. “This really is a Vacuo place. Haven’t seen this in awhile.”

Winter covered her eyes. “Ugh. How barbaric.”

“Nah, this is fun!” he told her. “Look at it as military training.”

“It is not,” she insisted. “While wrestling indeed has military applications, this is nothing more than a meat market for horny males, to see women debase themselves in a parody of the martial arts.”

The emcee continued. “Announcing our challenger…Harriet… _Bree!”_

Qrow and Winter were surprised. If Winter seemed out of place, a member of Ace Ops really did. Harriet bounded up the steps, dressed in a bikini that didn’t leave much to the imagination. For her small size, Harriet had an impressive bust, and as she turned in place for the crowd, her Semblance of speed had left her with well-defined leg and gluteus muscles. Despite a scene she found disgusting, Winter found herself evaluating Harriet’s chances. She was small, inhumanly fast, and her short hair didn’t leave much to grab in a fight. She would be a tough opponent.

“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” the emcee said. “Our champion, for three weeks running…the Masked… _Blizzard!”_

The curtains on the other side of the ring from Harriet parted. The woman that walked out of the curtains did not so much walk as she strode, like a conqueror. She had the legs for it, and a titanium white one-piece swimsuit that rode high on the hips and over the breasts, doing an even worse job of concealing the wrestler’s assets than Harriet’s bikini. Her face was covered by a glittering mask, out of which pale blue eyes stared; her white hair was tied up in a ponytail. 

Winter spit her beer all over the floor and nearly choked. As Qrow pounded her back, she struggled out, “That’s _Weiss!”_ She coughed. “And that’s _my_ swimsuit!”

Qrow barely kept himself from exploding into laughter. There was no question it was Weiss Schnee. The mask concealed her features, but the walk was unmistakable to anyone who knew her. She slid over the top rope in a display of elegance that was both poetic and erotic at the same time. The bar was going crazy now, and lien was exchanged as Harriet ducked under the ropes and took her corner. 

“What the _hell_ is she doing here?” Winter exclaimed.

“I dunno,” Qrow said, “but she’s been doing it for three weeks, apparently.”

Winter took a step forward. “I’m stopping this.” Qrow’s hand closed around her arm. “Let go,” she ordered.

“Winter, just wait. Weiss has a reason for doing this.” He grinned lopsidedly at her. “Besides, I want to watch.”

She shook him off, but fell back to the bar. “Pervert,” she snarled, and ordered another beer.

The bell rang, and the two stalked each other. Suddenly, Harriet darted forward in what would’ve been a devastating tackle—on a regular floor. Instead, the mud gripped her bare feet, and it slowed her down. Weiss simply stepped to one side and used Harriet’s own velocity against her, sending her stumbling into the ropes. Weiss half-slid into the middle of the ring as Harriet got herself untangled; as she turned, Weiss assumed a ballet pose, balanced on one foot while the other was brought up to rest against a thigh, and blew Harriet a kiss. Harriet spit mud, balanced herself, and ran at Weiss again. This time she turned the run into a slide, trying to take Weiss’ feet out from under her, but Weiss once more easily stepped aside. Her left arm shot out and got Harriet around the face, taking her off her feet; Weiss then slammed her back into the mud. 

Once more, she stepped away daintily, and bent over, waving her hand over her mask. Qrow whistled lowly: the swimsuit was a little big for Weiss, who had compensated by pulling it into the cleft of her rear, leaving her nearly exposed. Weiss spun in place and bowed to the crowd next. Cheers filled the room.

“Don’t take your eyes off your opponent!” Winter snapped.

Sure enough, Harriet kipped up, spun and hit Winter from behind, knocking her face first into the ropes. She then seized a handful of Weiss’ ponytail and banged her head against the ropes, then whipped Weiss around to pin her against them, wrapping her arms up. As Weiss’ head lolled, Harriet delivered two solid punches to the former heiress’ midriff. 

But Weiss was far from finished. Her long legs snaked out, hooked around Harriet’s ankles, and tripped her. Harriet went back into the mud, Weiss untangled herself, and before the other girl could get to her feet in the slippery muck, leapt upon her, driving her shoulders down. The crowd counted two before Harriet was able to swing Weiss off. Weiss rolled through the mud like an otter and was back on her feet as Harriet barely got to hers—and Weiss was on her again, this time pushing her into the ringpost. Weiss got a grip on the twin, rabbit-like tails of hair that stuck up from Harriet’s forehead, and rammed her into the turnbuckle. Dazed, Harriet leaned against the post, trying to get her breath back, only for Weiss to put her hands together and hit her in the back. The Ace Ops operative slid to the next turnbuckle, only for Weiss to hit her again, and then a third time. Now with her opponent almost facedown in the mud, Weiss reached down, undid the ties to Harriet’s top, and lifted it away. The crowd went wild as she threw it derisively behind her. 

With a scream, Harriet suddenly jumped to her feet. She threw her head backwards, hitting Weiss in the chin and sending her stumbling. With yellow lightning flashing from her eyes, Harriet was now the one who spun in place, ran forward, spraying mud everywhere, and launched herself into a kick. Weiss was catapulted backwards into the mud, sliding nearly the length of the ring. One strap of the swimsuit fell free, briefly exposing a pale breast, but then Harriet was leaping on her, driving Weiss down, gripping her shoulders and pushing them into the mud. 

“Kick out, Wei—er, Blizzard! Godsdammit! _Kick out!”_ Qrow turned, eyes wide. Winter was standing on the bar, shouting at her sister, the light of battle in her eyes.

Weiss barely got a shoulder up, and managed to twist around, but Harriet punched her twice, then pushed her down again. As Weiss sagged in defeat, Harriet leaned down. “What you got, huh? What you got!”

Abruptly, Harriet realized it was a trap. Weiss’ legs came up, one underneath Harriet’s neck against her throat, the other around the back of her neck; she reached up, grabbed the tuft of Harriet’s hair again, and yanked her head downwards, pinning it against her leg. “Gates of Atlas!” the emcee shouted. “Gates of Atlas! It’s her finisher!”

Harriet’s eyes bulged, her face, even through the streaks of mud, went red. She struggled to escape the hold, but she was now fighting against all of Weiss’ body weight, and the other girl’s powerful thighs: Weiss might not have quite the muscle of Harriet Bree, but she was no slouch. She tightened the hold.

_“Yes!”_ Winter yelled. _“Kill her!”_

Harriet’s arms came up to try to pull the legs away, but her strength was waning and feeble. On the verge of passing out, she slapped Weiss’ thigh three times. The bell rang, and Weiss let go. Harriet collapsed into the mud and rolled onto her back. Weiss adjusted her swimsuit, stood, and threw her hands in the air, her fingers forming twin OK-signs. The crowd went wild, and Winter clapped happily as she got down off the bar. “Well fought!” she said. “Well fought!” She tossed off the last of the beer as Weiss curtseyed to the crowd, and sashayed back through the curtains. Harriet crawled to the ropes, pulled herself up to polite clapping, and was helped through the curtains by the emcee.

Winter grabbed Qrow and dragged him to the door leading backstage. A bouncer stood there, but one glacier glare from Winter and a quick flash of a Huntsman ID from Qrow, and they were admitted to the back. Weiss stood in a small shower, spraying herself free of mud, still wearing the swimsuit. The mask lay on a nearby table. She nearly fell when she saw Winter. “Oh shit,” she breathed. 

Harriet, having made a miraculous recovery from supposedly being strangled, leaned against the shower, a towel covering her breasts. “That your sister? You’re in trouballll…” she sang. Naturally, there was no mistaking Winter Schnee.

“Winter,” Weiss began to say, her hands in front of her as if to ward off a blow, “I can explain.”

Winter stopped in front of her. She tried to look stern, but then she couldn’t fight off a grin. “Well done, dear sister. Triumphing against a skilled opponent in unfamilar and poor terrain is something to be praised, even if the company was coarse and you needlessly exposed yourself.”

Weiss shot Harriet a warning glance: it was fairly obvious that Winter was not familiar with wrestling or kayfabe. It was not fake, but it was scripted: Harriet was supposed to lose, and neither had cut loose with their full potential. “Um, thank you.” 

“So that’s why you borrowed Winter’s swimsuit,” Qrow observed.

“Er…yes. Mine actually broke a strap in the match two days ago when I fought the Rainbow Panther. Er, Neon Katt.” Weiss did not want to mention that she had finished that match completely naked. Fighting in mud, exposed, surrounded by a crowd, but hiding behind a mask...secretly, Weiss admitted only to herself, it had been a bit of a turn-on.

“Neon Katt?” Qrow asked. “She’s part of Team FNKI.”

“Oh yeah,” Harriet put in, handing Weiss another towel to dry off with. “We started doing this a few weeks ago. Good training for, like you said, poor terrain. When spring gets here, it gets muddy as hell on the Amity road, so if we have to fight Grimm, we need to be familiar in fighting in mud. This was actually Elm’s idea.” Weiss stepped out of the shower and began drying off as Harriet stepped in, dropping the towel; Qrow turned aside. 

“Elm?” Winter asked. “Elm Ederne?”

“That’s right.” The enormous woman stepped out from a door, ducking underneath it. Elm Ederne was the tank of Ace Ops, but she was dressed in pink wrestling tights that strained heroically to stay on her frame. Elm could bench press an armored vehicle, and had the muscles to match. Nora Valkyrie stepped out from behind her, dressed identically. “I heard about this place and figured it would be good training. We give the money to charity.”

“Most of it,” Nora said. 

“You two—“ Qrow began.

“Team Thunder Thighs!” Nora grinned. “We’re the tag team champions. We just took the belt off Marrow and Flynt last week, so we’re defending the title tonight. It’s a rematch!”

“Mixed gender wrestling?” Winter asked.

“I don’t do it,” Weiss assured her, “but yes. There’s women in the audience, of course, and we believe in equality of sexes. And they _do_ like seeing the boys in their…uh…banana hammocks.”

“Hell yeah!” Nora cheered. “I tried to get Ren to compete, but he won’t do it.” That hadn’t stopped her from buying Ren a banana hammock, but that was between the two of them.

“Really…” Winter threw Qrow a sidelong glance. “Well. Perhaps I shall observe more of this…exercise. Come, Qrow. We will need to set a few bets.”

Qrow waved to them as Winter dragged him out. He had a bad feeling about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep...the idea I got from Foglio was mud wrestling. This is third "wrestling episode" I've had in "Love Hurts"; as I've mentioned before, I'm a big wrestling mark. Wrestling fans might recognize the emcee stealing the New Age Outlaws' entrance monologue, and Weiss' finisher on Harriet is the Undertaker's Hell's Gate--though much sexier.
> 
> Keep the ideas coming. Even if I don't use them, they usually give me some ideas for other stuff. I like a good challenge, so Beach Party, don't be totally disappointed. I'm not quite done with your ideas just yet...


	35. It's a Kind of Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ozpin has returned to help Oscar learn how to fight, and how to be a reincarnation of Ozma. This includes magic, so Oscar asks to learn some spells. Ozpin's a bit reluctant, but agrees to let Oscar learn at least one spell.
> 
> And Ruby picked the wrong time to want to make love to Oscar...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was Maswartz's request, and like a dope I totally forgot about it until he reminded me, so here ya go.
> 
> In this story, Ozpin returns to advise Oscar a lot sooner than Oscar getting shot. 
> 
> I've had some requests to do a Ghost Pyrrha chapter, but I'm not sure how I would do that without it becoming terribly depressing.

_Good, Oscar. Well done._

“Thanks!” Oscar said to the voice in his head. He extended in the lunge, then dropped back to the rest position. He was alone in Atlas Academy’s vast training hall. “Whew. This is hard work. Would it be easier if my Semblance was unlocked?”

_It would be. But even if it was, you need to know how to use the Long Memory. You cannot rely on Aura or Semblances in every fight. In the end, it’s the man, not the Semblance, that matters._

Oscar nodded. “It’s good to have you back, Ozpin.”

_Thank you. But I’d prefer if you keep that to yourself. I don’t think Team RWBY or the others have quite come to terms with what I have done._

Oscar took the moment to sit down. Ozpin had retreated and disappeared after Jinn had revealed the true story of Ozma and Salem. Not long after they had come to Atlas, however, Ozpin’s disembodied voice had made a reappearance, though both he and Oscar had kept it quiet. Ozpin was right: there was still some bad blood after the revelation that Ozpin had been keeping secrets and outright hiding the truth. Oscar had forgiven Ozpin—it would be hard not to forgive someone you were sharing bodies with—but it would be a long time, if ever, that Qrow Branwen would, for instance.

Oscar stretched. He needed to get back to his training, but first he needed to ask Ozpin a question. “Professor…can I use magic?”

_Ah, a good question. Yes, in theory._ _The power is there, the training is not._

“Can you teach me?”

_Right now?_

“Maybe just a little.”

_All right. What would you like to know?_

Oscar thought for a moment. “Well, Weiss was saying the other day that anger is never a good thing to have in combat.”

_This is true._

“Is there a spell that would make someone so angry that they lose control of themselves, and make them easier to beat?”

_There is, but it is quite dangerous. Were you to cast this on a Grimm, it would indeed lose control of itself, but it would also become a berserker. And I hesitate to teach emotion control spells, as they interfere with a person’s free will._

“But what if I was fighting…like that Emerald girl? If she got really angry, she couldn’t concentrate on using her illusion powers. Or…maybe I could just make her really happy instead? So she wouldn’t want to fight us?”

_Such spells could be easily abused, Oscar. You would be tempted one day to make one of your friends really happy._ Ozpin’s voice was quite concerned. _Let’s say you come upon Blake Belladonna one day, and she is depressed. Rather than talking to her and helping her cheer up, you simply cast a spell. She feels better, but is she_ actually _better? You’ve manipulated her. That is what Salem used to do. It is power that is easy to lose control of._

Oscar was horrified. “Ozpin, I would never do something like that!”

_I thought that about myself once. I was wrong._ The voice was silent for a moment. _Nonetheless, while I’m hesitant to teach you a spell that allows you to manipulate the emotions of others, I could teach you how to manipulate your own. For instance, you are understandably scared going into a fight with Grimm. My spell would help calm you down—similar to Lie Ren’s Semblance._

Oscar stood. “That would be better.”

_Very good. Now clear your mind. Such magic is ancient. Salem and I can cast it with a thought, but you are nowhere near that level. So we will start off small, and you must use a somatic component._

“A what?”

Oscar thought he could hear Ozpin smile. _You’ll have to speak the words. They’re in ancient Mistrali, but they’re not hard. Now repeat after me: Pahcabo mehi diftali._

“Pahcabo mehi diftali.” It took a few repeats, but Oscar got it. “What does it mean?”

_Calm me down._

Oscar beetled his eyebrows. “Really? That’s it?” he asked sarcastically.

_Magic words are easy. Having the power to make it work is hard. Do you know what the most powerful magic words in Remnant are?_

“Please?”

_Heh. Close. They’re—_ But before Ozpin could finish, the door to the training room slid open, admitting Ruby Rose, one each. Oscar felt Ozpin retreat slightly. Ruby skipped towards him, a beatific smile on her face, but then her Scroll went off. She stopped, looked down, frowned, and held up a finger. “Oscar, sorry, it’s Yang!” She turned around and spoke in hushed tones.

_Ozpin,_ Oscar thought, _are you okay with what is going on between me and Ruby?_

 _Certainly,_ Ozpin replied. _You make a nice couple. And I think both of you are stronger for the relationship._

_You don’t…you know…watch?_

_Certainly not!_ Ozpin sounded offended. _I would never do that to you, Oscar. I know what is happening on some level, of course, but I will not spy nor eavesdrop. That is for you and Ruby, and the two of you alone._

Oscar was relieved at that. He’d been meaning to ask Ozpin about that for awhile, but never could quite work up the courage. He found himself feeling rather calm about the whole thing now, and chuckled softly. Naturally; the spell had worked on him. 

“Sorry ‘bout that!” Ruby put the Scroll back in a pocket of her dress. “Yang just wanted to know when I’d be back to the dorm.”

“It’s okay. What’s up?” Oscar asked.

“Oh, nothing. Just wondering what _you_ were up to tonight.”

“I don’t have any plans. I was just practicing.” He pointed to Long Memory, still sitting on the ground where he’d left it. 

“Good.” Ruby stepped closer, and licked her lips. She pressed her body against his. Even through the corset and skirt, she was warm. Her arms snaked around his back and held him closer. “I told Yang I’d be home when I felt like it.”

“Uh…you mean…”

“Mm-hmm.” She rubbed her head against his chin like a cat. “I think I’d really like to have you m-ma…” Ruby took a breath, swallowed. “Makelovetometonight.” She was still working on how to ask for sex. 

Oscar wasn’t the only one feeling breathless. He and Ruby had been lovers for a little over a month now, and he’d wondered if the passion they had would ever ebb. So far, it was just getting stronger and better. The feel of her body against his was having all kinds of physical effects. Ruby could feel his erection growing and pressing against his black slacks, and smiled. For her part, she never got tired of the effect she had on him—she was doing that to _him,_ he loved _her._ For someone who had always felt a little inadequate against the bombshell that was Yang Xiao Long, the exotic beauty of Blake Belladonna, or the cultured elegance of Weiss Schnee, Ruby was still a little surprised that she had this effect on any person. She kissed him again. “Feels like you’re, um, getting excited.” She was still struggling with sexy talk too.

“Uh, yeah.” So was Oscar.

“Want to go back to your room?”

Actually, Oscar wanted to grab Ruby, throw her to the floor—gently lower her to the floor, he corrected himself; Ruby was stronger than him—and take her right there in the training area. Just the thought of that was enough to make it feel like a certain part of his body was simply going to tear through the slacks. He nodded dumbly.

“Okay.” Ruby stepped back, and her smile turned sultry. Then she reached down, grabbed the hem of her skirt, and slowly lifted it. Oscar’s eyes helplessly followed its upward trajectory, over the black stockings to their frilly top, to the rose-decorated panties that he knew waited beneath—except there weren’t any panties, rose-decorated or otherwise. There was no clothing at all to hide the shaved pubic mound and the slit below it. 

“You-you-you’re n-not-not—“ Oscar stammered.

Ruby giggled, even as she turned bright red. As short as her combat skirt was, going without underwear was a good way to show her fellow teammates, passerby, and Grimm everything she was below the waist. But she’d chanced it, leaving the dorm, guessing that Oscar would like it. And given the look on his face, he liked it very much. Though the wide eyes, mouth hanging open, and twitching hands made Ruby wonder if Oscar was going to make it back to the dorm.

Ruby wasn’t alone in wondering that. Oscar wasn’t sure he was going to make it out the door of the training area, let alone the dorm room. His brain was overwhelmed with the sight of his lover, her dress held up at her waist. Ruby made it infintely worse by spinning in place, giving him a good sight of her bare bottom in the process. She might not know how to ask for Oscar to make love to her, or be able to talk dirty, but Ruby had learned quite a bit about erotic display. 

Oscar gathered what saliva he could, and said in a high voice, _“Pahcabo mehi diftali!”_ He had to calm himself down, otherwise there was going to be a very embarrassing incident.

_Oh dear,_ he heard Ozpin say. 

“What?” Oscar asked aloud.

_You didn’t say the words right._

“What did I say?” He thought he'd said the words right.

_You said ‘Pedicabo mehi difficile.’ That doesn’t mean ‘calm me down’ in ancient Mistrali._

Oscar felt the color draining out of his face. “Uh…what does it mean?”

There was a hesitation, an actual audible clearing of a ghostly throat, and then Ozpin sighed. _It means ‘fuck me hard.’ I’m afraid you just cast a lust spell, Oscar._

“Oh shit,” Oscar breathed.

Ruby had stopped in mid-turn. Slowly, she finished her spin, and Oscar took a step back. The silver eyes were dilated, her breath was suddenly a lot harder, and her expression changed to one of such hunger that Salem would’ve turned and ran. “You…” she said, her voice a shade deeper and a lot scarier, “You want me to…fuck you hard?” Ruby nodded slowly, and her smile widened to psychotic proportions. “I’m going to…fuck you hard, Oscar. So hard.” Then she began laughing maniacally. Her fingers went to the top of her tunic and unzipped it down to her corset. Ruby hadn’t been wearing a bra, either. Her small breasts popped out, the nipples hard enough to cut glass. Frantically, she began pulling the corset strings loose and shimming out of that. “Going to fuck you so hard!” she cackled.

Oscar took another step back. “Ozpin, what do I do?” He was so terrified that he spoke his mentor’s name aloud.

_All right, just a minute…_

Ruby tossed her corset aside, and began hopping around on one foot, pulling off her boots. She kept repeating what she wanted to do to Oscar. “I don’t think we _have_ a minute!” Oscar yelled. 

_Well, you’re not very powerful magically, so it should wear off relatively quickly. Such spells are not made for long-lasting effects anyway._ Ozpin paused. _Then again, she was already desiring you, so such a spell will be doubly powerful. And you can’t run away, she’ll follow you…which would be rather embarassing to Miss Rose, eventually…and she’s much, much faster than you._

Ruby had her boots off, and dropped the skirt. She began working on the stockings, then gave up, looking at Oscar. “Fuck the stockings!” she shouted. "You're mine!"

“What do I do?” Oscar repeated frantically.

Another sigh from Ozpin. _Well, my young friend…I think you are, in the parlance of young people today, fucked._ Oscar felt his mentor retreating into the recesses of his mind. _Let me know when it’s safe to come out, and well, good luck._

“You’re a lot of help!” Oscar exclaimed, but then Ruby was advancing towards him, still cackling. “Can little Oscar come out and play?” she said, then made an extremely lewd gesture with her fingers and tongue, one which, had Ruby been in her right mind, would have made her pass out from sheer shock. 

“Uh…oh boy…um…I think little Oscar might be a little reluctant…” Oscar said. It was true. His erection, which had been just as hungry a minute ago as Ruby was right now, was gone. If anything, it was retreating as fast as Ozpin had, at the thought of Ruby Rose grabbing it. 

Ruby stopped. “Oh. Really? Aww.” She seemed a little sad at that. For a moment, Oscar wondered if it had been enough to break the spell. Then her eyes fell on the Long Memory. “Then I’ll have to play with this instead!” She reached down, seized the cane, and positioned the end—luckily, not the hilt—between her legs.

Ozpin’s voice abruptly returned. _Oscar, stop her! If she puts that in herself, she could do real physical damage. Ruby is too small of a woman to handle the Long Memory!_

Oscar began to move forward. _Uh, Ozpin,_ he thought, _that sort of implies that other women can…you know…_

_Don’t finish that thought. Whatever you do, do_ not _finish that thought._

Thousands of miles away, in the Evernight Castle, Salem stopped, wrinkled her nose, and sneezed violently. “Hmm,” she said. “That’s odd.”

Ruby evidently had some shred of common sense left, as she reconsidered trying to fit the Long Memory in a spot where it was not intended to fit, and instead, began riding it like a broomstick, rubbing it against herself. _Oh no,_ Ozpin said with concern, _I sure hope she doesn’t find the vibration function…_

“Say _what?”_ Oscar yelled.

_Ah, nothing. You didn’t hear that. All right, Oscar, I’m afraid you’re going to have to intervene here, and that means—_

“I figured that out!” Oscar was riding a rollercoaster of emotions. A lust-addled, wild-eyed Ruby coming after him like a Beowulf had caused his erection to fade, but a lust-addled, wild-eyed Ruby sliding the Long Memory around like a horizontal stripper pole was enough for it to return with a vengeance. He reached out and grabbed the cane, resolving to have it disinfected, and then never using it again. It just wouldn’t be the same fighting Grimm with it, that was for sure. “Ruby,” he said calmly, as calmly as he could, “take it easy. Let me have the cane, okay?”

“No!” Ruby snapped. “You won’t give me _your_ Long Memory, so I have to use this!”

He grabbed her cheeks, accidentally scrunching them up so she looked like a demented squirrel, and kissed her, gently and lovingly. He heard the Long Memory clatter to the ground, and her hands came up to grip his back. When he pulled back and opened his eyes, her silver eyes seemed clearer. “Oscar…”

“Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh.” Then they suddenly darkened again, and she grinned like Neo on a mark. “Now that I’ve got you where I want you!” She shoved him to the floor. “Get out of those clothes, asshole! I’m going to fuck you harder than Salem fucked Remnant!”

“Oh gods!” He somehow got Ruby’s hands away from his crotch, before she was able to pull down both pants and underwear, which would’ve had disastrous consequences. “Let me!”

“Hurry the fuck up!” She ran her hands up her body. “I want you, Oscar…I want you…I want you to bang me so hard my head pops off like a Pez dispenser...”

His erection surged. _Oh, now don’t_ you _start,_ Oscar thought, and got his pants and underwear down to his knees; his penis popped upwards. Ruby clapped her hands happily. “Yaaay!” She grabbed it with both hands, and he had barely time to pull his shirt up before she sank down on him, impaling herself. “Oh, yesss, Oscar…make me forget my name…”

_Please don’t use your Semblance please don’t use your Semblance please don’t use your Semblance_ Oscar kept thinking. If she activated it, he’d have enough friction burns to take off a layer of skin. At least there was plenty of lubrication, though with the enthusiasm Ruby was showing, he was wondering if it would flash to steam. However, Oscar was a red-blooded young man, and the feeling of a beautiful woman riding him like he was the prize steer at a Vacuo rodeo soon drove out all other thoughts. He couldn’t quite keep up with her, but he gave it the old academy try.

Normally, Ruby was somewhat quiet during sex—she might moan passionately, make cute little squeaking noises, and might even giggle softly during the act. This time, however, Ruby was shouting four letter words at the top of her lungs, describing in close detail what she was feeling, what Oscar was doing to her, his approximate length and girth, and how he needed to pound her even harder than he was, which he was not physically capable of doing. One remaining lucid part of Oscar’s mind felt sympathy for Blake, because apparently it ran in the family. Finally, Ruby’s voice, which was becoming more and more incoherent, simply rose to an animal scream. Normally, she would stop during her orgasm, the better to enjoy it, but this time she only seemed to increase the pace. 

And suddenly, she stopped. Ruby blinked. “Huh? What happened?” Then she looked down at her naked self, and Oscar’s semi-naked self; he hadn’t even had time to get his coat and boots off. “Oscar? What—“

Oscar hadn’t noticed that the spell had worn off. “Ah… _Ruby!”_ he shouted, and gave one last thrust. Ruby was taken by surprise and nearly fell off, but then she felt him pulsing in her. She smiled and shrugged. “Oh well.” She leaned forward and kissed him as he finished. “I don’t know what’s going on exactly, but that felt nice.”

The door to the training area opened, admitting Harriet Bree and Elm Elderne of Ace Ops. “And then I _told_ him that the Coquina Clutch would knock him out if he didn’t tap,” Elm was saying, “but you know Marrow…he’s always got to ski uphill.”

“Yeah, he’s kind of…dumb…sometimes…” Harriet stopped at the sight of Ruby and Oscar. 

Elm stopped as well. She smiled and shook her head. “Kid,” she told Oscar, “I hope you bought her dinner first.” She grabbed Harriet and steered her back towards the door, snickering.

“Elm,” Harriet said in amazement, “they were…on the floor…she was… _he_ was…”

“Yes, yes, that’s nice,” Elm said, patting Harriet on the head, and closed the door.

Ruby waited a moment, then got up off of Oscar. “Okay. Now I don’t mind what just happened at all, but I don’t remember it.”

Oscar checked himself for any permanent damage, then pulled up his underwear and pants. “What _do_ you remember?”

“Let’s see. I was showing off for you, ‘cause I wasn’t wearing any panties, and then everything just sort of went blank. I mean…I remember a little…it’s kinda hazy.”

“It’s my fault,” Oscar said. He almost mentioned Ozpin, but caught himself. “So, um, apparently being Ozma’s reincarnation allows me to use some magic. And, uh, the Long Memory can help me learn them, and so I was casting a calming spell on me, and I must’ve got it wrong, because you went kinda nuts.” She cocked her head to one side in confusion, and Oscar explained, “You went all lusty. You basically attacked me after you stripped naked. You…me…were doing…stuff. Fun stuff. Scary, fun stuff.”

“Gee. I wish I could remember it.” She picked up her skirt and began putting it back on. “Well, Elm’s right. Can you buy me dinner?” She winked at him. “And then we can go back to your place, and whatever spell you cast, you can do it again!”

Oscar waved his hands. “No way!” He stepped over to her, and kissed her again. She smiled through the kiss, and looked at him. The silver eyes were clear now, but he still wanted to get lost in them. “Because this time I want you to remember every second.”

“Aww, Oscar.”

“And I want you to go a bit slower.”

She laughed and poked his chest. “Okay.” Then she turned her back on him and began gathering the rest of her clothes.

_Whew,_ Oscar thought. He watched her bend over. _Gods, I love you._

_And that, my young friend, is the most powerful magic words of all._ _You did well,_ Ozpin told him.

Oscar closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. _Tell me you didn’t see that._

_Unfortunately, Miss Rose didn’t leave me much time for me to…disassociate myself from events. It’s quite all right, Oscar,_ Ozpin assured him. _I’ve seen and done far worse in intimate moments._

Far away, Salem sneezed again. “Wow,” Emerald Sustrai said, looking up from her soup, “you sure have been sneezing a lot, Mistress Salem.”

“I have,” Salem agreed. “I didn’t think I was allergic to anything.”


	36. A Ghost of a Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pyrrha Nikos is happy enough in the afterlife, but she misses Jaune terribly. She feels like she never really got the chance to show him how much she loved him. If there was only a way.
> 
> Luckily, the Good Brother has a way of dealing with such things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A "Ghost Pyrrha Makes Love to Jaune" was suggested by Maswartz, Possession Solves Everything (which is true, in this case), and WearyCurmudgeon. At first, I honestly wasn't going to write this, because I couldn't figure out a way to write it without it being sad or melancholy. But then, I gave it some thought for the past few days, and I think I came up with something that combines everyone's suggestion. 
> 
> Yep, this one is still a little sadder than normal; this chapter really is "Love Hurts." But still, it's kind of funny, and I've been wanting to use that ending for a long time. 
> 
> Like-We-Care-About-Canon Note: I've had Jaune and Pyrrha make love before in this fic, but canon isn't a big deal here, so just pretend they haven't gone too far.

“Pyrrha Nikos.”

Pyrrha looked up from the still pool of water in the glade. She quickly stood and bowed. “Oh. Sir. I’m sorry.”

The Good Brother shook his head and motioned for her to sit, then walked across the water and sat next to her. Though his face was featureless, Pyrrha felt he was smiling. She also knew why he was here. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I know…I shouldn’t care anymore.”

He laughed softly. “Now who said that?” The Brother looked around. “I know _I_ didn’t say that. And I know my Brother hasn’t been messing around here.” He ran his hand over the soft grass. “Not his kind of place, anyway.”

“But I’m…” Pyrrha still struggled to say it. Time had no meaning in this place, but on Remnant, it had been well over a year, almost two. “I’m dead.”

“And that means you can’t care for the living?”

Pyrrha sighed. “They need to move on from me, sir. And they have. My mother…she’s come to terms with it. Team JNPR…they have too. Jaune has Weiss now. And that’s a good thing,” she reassured the Good Brother. “I hold no jealousy in my heart.”

“I know, Pyrrha. You wouldn’t be here if you did.” He reached forward, gently cupping one side of her face. “Pyrrha. _They_ have moved on. _You_ have not. You still miss Jaune Arc.” She nodded sadly, and he took his hand away. “Or rather, you feel that you did not accomplish something in your life.”

She nodded again. “I love him, sir. And I only got to tell him once…” The tears drifted down her face. “And I never…physically loved him. I guess that’s wrong to think that.”

“Love for someone is never wrong, as long as it is used correctly. Without that love, there would be no children. And then where would we be?” The Good Brother shrugged. “Naturally, I would prefer there to be some sort of permanent bond before such things are done, but in your case, I suppose I could make an exception.” 

“But how? I’m dead! I can’t return.” Pyrrha paused. She _was_ dealing with a god. “Can I?”

The Good Brother steepled his fingers. “You can, but it would be without physical form. A spirit, if you will.”

“A ghost,” Pyrrha said gloomily.

“Yes.”

“How would a ghost be able to m-make love?” She stammered a little on the last part.

The Good Brother gave that smile that was not a smile. “You’re a very smart girl. You’ll figure it out.” He pointed at the pool as he rose to his feet. “Merely submerge yourself in there, and you will arrive near whom you wish, when you wish.” He raised a finger as she stood as well. “I will warn you, Pyrrha Nikos. Do not hurt anyone with what powers may be granted, or you will attract Salem and her minions, or worse, my Brother. And know that after this…you will not be allowed to return to Remnant. Your purpose there will be complete.”

She bowed her head. “Yes, sir. I understand.”

He waved her towards the pool. “Well, what are you waiting for? You need to be back in an hour.”

“Or I will be trapped on Remnant?” Pyrrha asked.

He shook his antlered head. “Not at all. Amber is running karaoke tonight. It just wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Pyrrha gave one last nod. That was true; Amber’s karaoke was a lot of fun. And Vernal’s kebobs were to die for. “Thank you, sir.” She turned, and without fear, walked into the water, submerged, and was gone.

The Good Brother watched her go, and began to laugh.

Pyrrha found herself in the darkened Atlas Academy dorm room of Team RWBY. That surprised her. She had thought she might appear before Jaune, but apparently this was where she was meant to be. She was also naked. Pyrrha gave a little yelp, covering herself—in the afterlife, everyone wore a sort of gauzy robe, or really whatever they liked—but apparently one traveled to the living without apparel. She thought about her battle outfit, and suddenly she was dressed like that, down to her boots. For some odd reason, she was missing her tiara and sash, but that was something to ponder later.

Team RWBY was sound asleep. Pyrrha crept closer, then stopped creeping, as she was floating silently just off the floor. Then she spotted Weiss Schnee. _Ah,_ she thought, _that’s why I’m here. Of course, I need to speak with her first._

“Weiss?” she whispered. “Weiss?”

A blue eye blearily opened, then the other. “Whazzat? Whozit?” Then her eyes flew open, and she covered her own mouth before she could scream. 

“Weiss, easy! It’s me, Pyrrha!”

Weiss shook her head, terror on her face. “It can’t be Pyrrha,” she said between her fingers. “Pyrrha’s dead! You’re some sort of…ghost!” Her eyes narrowed and her teeth bared. “This is Salem’s doing!”

Pyrrha waved her hands. “No! I swear I’m not from Salem!” She looked around frantically, but despite the rising whispers, the rest of Team RWBY was still asleep. “I’ve come back.”

“You can’t come back from the dead!” Weiss said in disbelief. “Well, except for Penny, but she’s a robot…”

“I’ve come back…” Pyrrha looked down. “But I can’t stay. Not for long.” She could not meet Weiss’ eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Those two words, Pyrrha Nikos’ polite catchphrase, was said with so much conviction and loss that Weiss was suddenly convinced this was indeed the real Pyrrha. Still, Salem could toy with emotions. “Name something that I did only Pyrrha would know.”

“Um…” Weiss didn’t know a ghost could blush, but Pyrrha did. “Remember when Team RWBY went to Mountain Glenn on your long-range patrol? And I suggested that you…er…shave off your pubic hair since you probably wouldn’t be bathing much, because my aunt told me that it helped prevent lice? And you did?”

Weiss rolled her eyes. “I remember I got razor burn.” Then she smiled, and her eyes got misty. “My gods, Pyrrha. It is you.” She slid out of the bunk, and tried to hug her friend, but her arms closed on nothing. “Oh…right.” She settled for an air hug, which was returned. “What brought you back? Is it a warning? An upcoming battle?”

“No…at least, not that I know of.” Pyrrha folded her hands, as if in prayer. “You’ve all moved on from me. That’s a good thing,” she quickly insisted. “But…you see… _I_ haven’t.”

Weiss nodded sadly. “You still love Jaune. I’m sorry, Pyrrha, if I’d known—“

“I’m not angry that you two have become lovers, Weiss. I’m actually quite thankful.”

“That’s good,” Weiss said. “But there’s not love between us, Pyrrha. Affection to be sure. But not love.”

“I’m not jealous, Weiss.” Pyrrha smiled that gentle smile that would melt anyone’s heart. Except maybe Cinder’s. “It’s just that…Jaune and I never had a chance to experience that. Not really. I mean, a little…heavy petting, that sort of thing…”

Weiss folded her arms across her chest. “So you can’t move on unless you’ve made love to Jaune, one last time. Or really, just once.”

“I’m afraid so.” 

“I’m not going to stop you.”

Pyrrha looked sheepish. “Without a corporeal form, that’s going to be pretty difficult.”

Weiss had a mental image of Jaune having sex with the air. She shook her head free of that. “Then how?” It struck her. “Oh, I see. You have to possess me.”

Pyrrha blinked. She hadn’t thought of that. Then again, the Good Brother had told her she’d figure it out. “I suppose so.”

Weiss was silent. She glanced back at Team RWBY. None of them had stirred. Either they were sleeping very soundly or Pyrrha’s ghostly powers extended to their slumber. Then she turned back and smiled at Pyrrha. “Well…why not. I certainly don’t mind having sex with Jaune. He’s a very good lover.” She went to take Pyrrha’s hand, went straight through it, then shrugged and headed for the door. 

Moments later, they were at Jaune’s door. Weiss turned to look at Pyrrha. “You want to take over now or later?”

“I don’t know if I can turn invisible, so…if it’s okay…”

Weiss held up a finger. “Ground rules. When you’re in my body…that sounded very odd to say…no weird stuff. No…I don’t know, no fingers up the butt or humping Crocea Mors or something. Don’t use my Semblance, either. The last thing we need is a Boarbatusk or something running around while you two—and me, I guess—are trying to get it on.” She smiled at Pyrrha. “And be confident. Jaune is expecting a _very_ confident and self-assured Weiss Schnee. Okay?”

“Okay.” 

“All right.” Weiss closed her eyes and took a breath. “I trust you, Pyrrha. I’ve always trusted you.”

Pyrrha drifted forward until she was covering Weiss like a hologram, and then, had the very strange feeling of locking onto something, almost like when she used to when activating her Semblance. Weiss gasped, and then Pyrrha felt herself in control. It was strange, to be looking at the world in someone else’s eyes, to feel someone else’s hands and feet. “Wow,” she said, in Weiss’ voice. 

_This feels weird,_ she heard Weiss say. _This must be what Ozpin feels like._

_You’re still…er…here?_ Pyrrha thought in amazement.

_I guess. I mean, it’s still my body._ She heard Weiss giggle. _Hey, this might be fun. Okay…knock on his door! Let’s do this, Pyrrha!_

Pyrrha summoned up her courage, reached up, hesitated, and then knocked on Jaune’s dorm room door. It sounded like a shotgun going off in the hallway, and Pyrrha nearly turned and ran. But Weiss was a steadying influence, and Jaune opened the door, yawning. “Weiss?” he asked sleepily. “What’s up?”

Pyrrha’s mind went blank. She couldn’t exactly tell Jaune she was Pyrrha; he would think Weiss had lost her mind. She was here to make love, but Pyrrha had never been good at expressing her feelings. She hesitated, then, on impulse, grabbed the hem of her—Weiss’—nightdress and pulled it up over her head. _Well, that’s one way to do it,_ Weiss said in their shared consciousness.

Jaune wasn’t so sleepy that a suddenly mostly naked Weiss didn’t wake him up. But he took it with surprising stride. “Oh,” he grinned. “I get it.” He ushered her in and closed the door. “Gee, Weiss, you could’ve called first—“

At first, Pyrrha didn’t reply. She was busy looking down at Weiss’ body. It was slim, pale, athletic—not as athletic as she had been, but good enough. _I got a little bigger since Beacon,_ Weiss snickered. Pyrrha cupped her breasts. “You did,” she whispered.

“Sorry?” Jaune asked.

“Ah, nothing! Nothing!” Pyrrha felt her heart thudding, which was very strange, since it was Weiss’ heart. Then, she reached down and pulled off her panties, stepping out of them. _Whoa, that_ is _your natural color!_ Pyrrha thought.

_Duh!_ Weiss thought back. _You’ve seen me in the shower, Pyrrha._

_Oh, that’s right._

Jaune for his part, was staring at Weiss. Not just because she was now completely naked, but because she seemed intently interested in her own body, running her fingers down over the narrow thighs and flat stomach. He knew Weiss had a bit of a narcissistic streak, but this was something new. It was also erotic as hell. Jaune felt himself getting hard, and deciding there was no reason to be clothed, dropped his boxers.

Pyrrha’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my gods!”

Jaune looked around frantically. “What? What?”

“It’s…you…”

_C’mon, Pyrrha, he’s not that big. He’s average. I know; I measured him one night._

_But I’ve…it’s…wow! He’s erect! I mean, I saw it once, but he didn’t last very long, like five seconds after I touched it, and…_

Weiss chuckled. _He’s gotten better, Pyrrha. Trust me. And you’d better do something, because I don’t stare at his rod like I’ve never seen it before._

Pyrrha gave a jerky nod. Jaune was really looking at her strangely now, so she crossed the short distance between them, grabbed him by the back of the neck, and kissed him, just as she’d kissed him on her last night on Remnant. It was wonderful. It was beautiful. His lips on hers. Pyrrha wanted to just be here forever.

She nearly leapt into the ceiling when his tongue went past her lips and started licking at hers—or Weiss’, actually. _What-what—_

_Oh, never done a Vacuo kiss, huh? Return the favor, Pyrrha. He likes that._

So she did. Electric fire seemed to radiate from where their lips and tongues touched. Pyrrha felt dazed. She’d never even dreamed it would be this good. 

_As Yang would say, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Ask him to do oral on you._

“What?” she murmured through the kiss.

_Trust me._

“Um, J-Jaune?” Even saying his name was difficult. “Would you…would you...” She remembered what Yang had called it one night when they were all doing some “girl talk.” “Would you go down on me?”

Jaune kissed her nose. “Don’t know why you’re acting shy tonight, Weiss. Sure thing.” He knelt in front of her, put his head between her legs, and she felt his rough fingers on her skin. 

_Weiss, I don’t know about this. I mean, I know you keep yourself clean and all, but—OH MY GODS._

Weiss began laughing. _See? Told you! Doesn’t this feel good? He’s really good at this._

_OH MY GODS. HIS TONGUE IS…IN…ME…ER, I MEAN, YOU…AGJKLCIGPFIKUILJBL…_

_I know, right?_

Pyrrha began unashamedly moaning, her hands entangled in his blonde hair. Jaune seemed to be licking everything, everywhere, and her toes curled as he found the little nub, and nearly fell over. _I…I’m…we’re…not…going to…last…_

_Ergh…that’s okay…we can do…this more than…once, y’know…oh…Jaune…_

Both of them felt that delicious tightness in the stomach, the flooding of every nerve end with sheer pleasure, and another minute did the trick. Pyrrha’s eyes rolled back and she let go with a choked scream. Jaune held her tight as she trembled and shook. He got to his feet, still holding her. “Wow,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever made you scream before, Weiss.”

_The hell he hasn’t!_ Weiss said silently.

_Okay, now what?_ Pyrrha didn’t need to breathe, of course, but she found herself panting.

_Reciprocate._

_You mean…in my mouth?_

 _Well, it’s_ my _mouth, but sure._

_But I…I don’t think I can do that. I just want…_

Pyrrha heard Weiss sigh. _I understand. Go for it._

Pyrrha, with more confidence than she felt, reached out and gently pushed Jaune onto his bed. She looked down at his throbbing hardness as he put his legs on the bed and leaned against the pillows. Then she straddled him, grabbed his member, and slowly, fearfully because she didn’t want to hurt Weiss, sank down onto it, all the way.

“Wow,” was all she could say.

Jaune shook his head. “Weiss, um…you’re acting kind of weird. You’re acting like we haven’t done this before.”

“Quiet!” she ordered. “Now, er…screw me, Jaune!”

_Hey! I_ _don’t sound like that,_ Weiss said. _Wait, do I?_

“Yes, ma’am,” Jaune grinned, and began thrusting into her. Pyrrha let him for a moment, just trying to figure out what to do next, but then Weiss’ body made the decision for her. She began meeting his thrusts with her own. It felt even better than his tongue. She leaned forward to rest her hands on his chest, realized he had gotten much more muscular since Beacon, and played with the suddenly-there pectorals. Jaune laughed and gently grasped at her breasts. 

They said nothing for a long time; nothing needed to be said. Pyrrha was nearly in tears: she’d always wanted this, and only this, for Jaune to make her his, and he hers. It felt so very wonderful. She didn’t want it to end. “Jaune,” she finally groaned. “Jaune.” 

Pyrrha might not have wanted it to end, and truth to tell, neither did Jaune, but physical bodies were making the decision for both of them. With her confession, the tightness snapped again and Pyrrha’s breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t hold herself back. “Jaune, I love you. I love you. I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” It was bittersweet: the feeling of ultimate pleasure, and ultimate sorrow at the same time.

Jaune looked up at her in shock. This was Weiss he was pushing into, more erratic and faster by the second, her beautiful face thrown back, her white hair wild and free, her small breasts heaving as her hands moved helplessly along his sides, his hands gripping her firm rear. And yet, somehow, it was _not_ Weiss. It was her body, it was her voice, but he knew it was not. “Pyr…Pyrrha!” he groaned, and with one last thrust, came deep within in her. 

_Oh…so that’s…oh dear,_ Pyrrha thought. 

_Definitely feels strange,_ Weiss replied. _Good, though._

 _Weiss!_ Pyrrha thought in alarm. _He just...in you!_

_Heh. Don’t worry, Pyrrha. I took precautions._ _Just enjoy it._

Pyrrha waited until Jaune was done, then lay against him, memorizing his body, the sparse blond chest hair, his face. _I’m going to leave now, Weiss. I’m going to start you crying otherwise. I don’t think I’ll be able to do this again._ Weiss felt Pyrrha’s consciousness began to fade. _Thank you, Weiss. I love you. I love you both so much. I love all of you so much…_

And then she was gone.

Weiss felt herself back in control. She got up a little, resting her head on her hands, crossed over Jaune’s chest. He blew out his breath. “Whew. That was _intense._ ”

“Sure was.” Weiss was sad for Pyrrha, but one part of her would not mind having possessed sex again. It brought a whole new level of pleasure. 

He brushed her hair back. It was definitely Weiss, he told himself; there was no doubt in those ice-blue eyes. “I thought for a second…” Then he laughed nervously. “Never mind. I’m sorry for what I said. About…you know…Pyrrha.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Jaune,” Weiss said, rolling off to snuggle. “We all say weird things when we’re having orgasms.”

“Then you…what you said…”

Weiss shrugged. “I don’t remember what I said,” she lied. 

Pyrrha stepped out of the pool, back in her gauzy dress, perfectly dry. The Good Brother waited, his hands behind his back. “Oh, good,” he said. “Just in time for karaoke.” He saw the sadness on her face. “How was it?”

“It was…” Pyrrha looked up and smiled. What was there to be sad about, really? And yet she still was. “It was wonderful, but…”

“Yes, yes,” the Good Brother replied. He massaged his chin in thought. “You know, looking back on that, maybe my Brother and I shouldn’t have made the act of physical love so pleasurable. Yes, it encourages reproduction, but it causes _so_ much trouble sometimes.” He reached out and touched her chin. “Oh dear. You’re sad, aren’t you, Pyrrha?”

“Yes, sir. I’m so—“

“None of that.” He began walking, hands behind his back, and motioned for Pyrrha to follow with a toss of antlers. “Hmm. This is a poser. The last time I had someone pining for a lost love this badly, I ended up having to judge Remnant and my Brother blew up the moon. Well, that just won’t do, Pyrrha Nikos.” He stopped and looked at her. “I’ve already got one Salem. I don’t need another.”

“I would never do that, sir.”

“Of course not. But I have an idea.” He'd actually had it before she had gone back to Jaune, but this made it even better.

Jaune brought up his shield as Neo Politan lunged forward with her umbrella, the steel, razor-sharp spike glittering in the soft light of the Atlas Academy hallway. He was a fraction too slow, and he knew it. The spike would slide across the top of his shield, into his throat—

Suddenly, the spike shot into the ceiling, tearing the umbrella out of Neo’s hands. She looked thunderstruck at it dangling there, but so did Jaune. And then both looked to the side, their eyes rounding—in terror for Neo, in stunned amazement for Jaune.

Pyrrha Nikos stood there, in her battle armor—but now, her armor was not shining brass and brown leather, but glittering steel and shimmering silk, shining like the sun. Her tiara looked like wings, her red hair billowed behind her in a silent breeze. Milo glowed in her hands with pure white fire where she had knocked the umbrella away. She looked at Neo with burning green eyes, and smiled. 

Neo turned and ran, Jaune forgotten, umbrella forgotten, Relic forgotten, at the sight of what could only be an angel.

Pyrrha turned back to Jaune. “Hello again!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a rumor floating around that Pyrrha's voice actress is recording lines for next year's RWBY, so either RT is making more Chibi (which honestly, this country needs right now!) or Pyrrha will be back in some fashion. So why not as Jaune's guardian angel? Watch out, Cinder. 
> 
> Also, RWBY doesn't explain much about their version of the afterlife, so we'll just assume it's some sort of heaven or Elysian Fields thing. And yes, I sort of stole the ending from Conan the Barbarian, but meh.


	37. The Birds and the Bees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Yang and Blake can't sleep, they decide to share some embarassing stories of when they were younger. And Blake has a doozy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I got "On RWBY Wings" updated, time to update this story too. I originally was going to write a Marrow Amin story, which I gave a lot of thought to over vacation, but that one will have to wait, as the muse struck on this one. Originally, it was going to be a story over the REAL reason why Blake left Adam, but the story wasn't going to work, since Adam wasn't a cat Faunus. So it turned into this instead.

Blake Belladonna yawned and turned the page on _Ninjas of Love IX: Smut and Nothing But_. Then she realized she actually hadn’t read the last page. She went back, but found her eyelids beginning to droop, and yawned again. She sighed: she wasn’t getting anymore reading in tonight. It was time for bed. She switched off the light. 

The shared dorm room of Team RWBY was plunged into darkness, but then a shaft of light illuminated the room for a moment as Yang Xiao Long came out of the bathroom, only to drop back into darkness when she switched off the bathroom light. It made little difference to Blake: her Faunus night vision could see perfectly well in the darkness. Yang had been taking a shower, and hadn’t bothered getting dressed. She was stark naked as she padded across the floor for her bunk. They were actually alone tonight, as Ruby was having a sleepover with Penny, and Weiss was doing a night patrol with Team JNR. Of course, Blake considered, Yang might still parade around naked even if Ruby and Weiss _were_ there; she was not exactly ashamed of her body, and all of them had seen it before. 

Yang stopped, looked at Blake, and put her artificial hand on her hip. “Like what you see, Blakey? You’ve been staring at me.”

Blake had a feeling this could easily end up in a mad lovemaking session between them. For one thing, they were alone (though Ruby and Weiss had an unnatural propensity for interrupting them), and both of them had to take their chances when they could. Normally Blake would be up for it—she certainly didn’t mind Yang’s amazing oral skills being used to haul her ashes, as it were—but tonight she was just exhausted. It would be insulting if she fell asleep while Yang was going down on her, or worse, if she was going down on Yang. “I do, but at the risk of sounding cliché,” Blake replied, “I’m too tired.”

Yang sighed. “You know, I hate to be honest, but…me too.” She walked over and sat down on Blake’s bed. “But I’m a bit lonely tonight. I don’t know why.” Yang smiled wanly. “Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. ‘Yang’s just putting on the pity act so I’ll sleep with her.’”

“That’s not at all what I was thinking,” Blake said truthfully. She scooted over in the narrow bed and patted it. “You’re welcome to sleep here with me. Weiss won’t be back before 0500, and she won’t care anyway.”

“Thanks, Blake.” Yang lifted the covers, and snuggled in next to Blake. The Faunus girl felt a little self-conscious about being clothed when Yang was naked, so she sat up, pulled off her yukata and panties, and set them aside. Yang raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were too tired.”

“I am. But it doesn’t seem right to have clothes on when you don't.”

“I’m not complaining or anything.” Yang pulled the covers up and smiled, this time in contentment. Blake was warm and soft, the latter a little strange, since she was such a tough Huntress. Oh, there was callouses here and there, and scars, but Yang loved those too. They lay hip to hip for a moment, then Blake turned over and curled up like a kitten, her usual sleeping pose. The dorm room was quiet.

And much to her dismay, Blake suddenly found herself unable to sleep.

It wasn’t Yang. Normally, being curled up next to Yang actually _helped_ her sleep. Of all the things that terrified Blake Belladonna, being alone was at the top. Having Team RWBY around her always helped; having Yang next to her was best of all. But for whatever reason, the exhaustion that had dogged her for the past few minutes suddenly disappeared. Blake’s body wanted sleep, but Blake’s brain decided to hell with that. 

After a few minutes of fruitlessly trying to force herself into sleep, which only made it worse, Blake straightened out. “Yang?” she whispered. “Are you awake?”

“Yep.”

“I can’t sleep all of a sudden.”

“Me neither. Just…got a lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Such as?”

“Just a lot of stuff.” Her arm bothered her sometimes; Blake knew that, so there was no point in rehashing it. There was the knowledge that Ruby was sleeping with Oscar, and it was obvious it was more than just a fling; Yang was actually happy for her sister, but was too much of a big sister to at least have some concern. Yang was worried about her father Taiyang and Zwei, if they would be safe. And there was the everpresent, overhanging threat of Salem, the enemy that couldn’t be killed, and wouldn’t be quiet forever. They had been enjoying their time in Atlas, but that could not and would not last. 

But Yang didn’t want to talk about that. “Blake…when did your folks give you the birds and the bees talk?” She didn’t know why that popped into her head, but it seemed safe enough to talk about, and there had been times when Yang had realized there was a lot about her lover she didn’t know about.

Blake wasn’t fooled for a moment, but decided that talking about that might quiet her head. She abruptly snickered. “What?” Yang asked.

“Nothing. That just reminded me of something funny.”

Yang turned over to face her. “Well, let’s have it.”

“Sure. Let’s see…I think I was about twelve…”

_The Belladonna Lodge, Menagerie_

_Roughly About Nine Years Earlier_

Kali Belladonna spun the knife in her hand as she chopped up pieces of tuna for the salad she was preparing. Ghira was watching her intently, so she didn’t mind showing off. She slid the pieces into the lettuce, then walked to the refrigerator, and bent over to find the dressing. Once she had, she straightened up and looked at Ghira over her shoulder. “I know where you were looking.”

He sat at the kitchen table, head resting on a hand, a satisfied smile on his face. “Mmm-hm.”

“Looking at my butt.”

“Mmm-hm.”

“And me a mother!”

“Mmm-hm.”

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?”

“Mmm-hm.”

Kali smirked at him. They loved to banter with each other; it was one reason their marriage was a happy one. She knew how to tease Ghira, and he knew all the right buttons to push. She glanced at the clock, and shook her head at her husband. “Blake will be home any minute, you lecher.”

Ghira let out a long sigh. “I know. That means I’ll have to wait until after she goes to bed. Ah well.”

Kali turned back to the salad, and made sure to roll her behind at him when she did so. “Just hold that thought, my husband.”

“I’d much rather hold you.” Ghira got up and walked over, and for a wild moment Kali thought he was going to ravish her right there, on the kitchen counter. She certainly wouldn’t have minded, except that she _was_ trying to make dinner, and again, Blake was due to walk through the door any minute. Instead, he settled for slapping his wife on the butt playfully, took a soda out of the refrigerator, and resumed his seat. Kali winked at him—it _was_ something to look forward to, at that—and returned to dicing another tuna. She’d already diced three of them, but Ghira and Blake could wipe out entire schools of fish singlehandedly.

The front door opened to the lodge, and Blake walked in. She set her backpack down by the sofa in the living room, then came into the kitchen. Kali turned to say hello, but the greeting died on her lips at how pale Blake looked. She was instantly at her daughter’s side. “Blake, dear? Are you all right?”

“Mom,” Blake said softly, her voice breaking a little, “I need to ask you a very important question.”

“Of course, honey. You can ask me—ask _us--_ anything.”

She looked at her father, then her mother, then the floor. “Um…it’s really personal.”

Kali looked at her daughter. They were at a height now. Blake was on the cusp of her teenage years, just starting to fill out, her face starting to lose the baby fat of childhood. She was going to be a beautiful woman—of course she is, Kali thought, how could she not be? “Blake, I said you could ask us anything, and you can.” 

“Your mother is right, Blake,” Ghira said reassuringly. “Anything at all.”

“Well…it’s about…we were talking, some of the kids at school…about…um…” Blake pressed her fingers together, still not looking at her parents. “Well…we were talking about…erhm…sex.” The last word was said in a whisper that even Faunus hearing barely picked up.

Kali laughed. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of, Blake! Of course you’re going to talk about that sort of thing. You’re growing up.” She felt a wave of sadness. Blake was indeed growing up. She wouldn’t be the rambunctious kitten any longer. She’d already had her first period. Kali didn’t want her to grow up anymore. 

Ghira nodded from the table. “Just be aware, Blake, that most of what you hear from your friends is going to be wrong. Now what they teach you in class, that’s the correct information.” Ghira didn’t want to believe Blake was growing up, either. Growing up meant boys, and he’d already resolved that the first boy to break Blake’s heart was going to be broken as well—in half. He realized that he didn’t know if Blake had gotten the traditional “birds and bees” talk yet, but figured that was something best left to Kali—female to female. He’d better stay out of that. Menagerie schools did teach sex education as well, so surely Blake would know the what, why and how of her body changing.

“I know, Dad. But this…it was just scary. I mean, I’m…it’s just…it’s just weird!”

Kali nodded and put her hands on Blake’s shoulders. “Blake, honey, a lot of this is going to seem weird. You’re going to have thoughts and feelings, and they’ll be hard to understand, and—“

“Ilia said that cat boys had barbed penises!”

Ghira spit half a bottle of soda across the kitchen. Kali was a bit more circumspect; she merely blinked. Twice. “She said what?” Kali asked evenly, as Ghira had a coughing fit that shook the room. 

Blake went over to the table and slumped into a chair. “Ilia said that boys had barbed penises. See, she read in a book that, when Faunus have sex, the boy puts his…you know…thing in…the other thing. The girl thing. And that the barbs, they clean out other boys, um, semen stuff. And we have to do it several times, because there will be other boys, and it has to all be cleaned out, and it’s really painful.” Blake sniffled. “Gods, Mom. It sounds horrible. Can I just join the Sisterhood of the Good Brother and never have sex, ever? How did you stand it to have me?”

Ghira wiped his mouth with a towel and wisely kept silent; Blake in a convent was not a bad idea, really. Kali sat down next to her daughter, looking for help from Ghira, but his answering look was _you’re on your own, wife of mine._ She rolled her eyes at him and suppressed a smile. Had Blake not looked so devastated, it might’ve been hilarious. “Blake, dear,” Kali said soothingly, “Ilia is wrong. Very wrong. Completely wrong. No Faunus boys that I know of have barbed…penises.”

“You’re sure?” Blake asked.

“Very.” 

Blake looked helplessly at her father, as if he had suddenly turned into some horrible freak. Ghira shook his head. “Then it doesn’t hurt when you have…you know?”

Kali smoothed her daughter’s hair. “It might the first few times, but not after that.” She almost added _after that it’s lots of fun_ , but that didn’t seem right for the situation. Kali was caught on the horns of a dilemma, to reassure her daughter that sex was not harmful, but not to the point where she was encouraging Blake to go find out sometime. Then she hit on the right solution. “When you’re with the right person, Blake, it’s wonderful.” She smiled at Ghira. “I should know.”

Ghira decided it was time to at least say something. “Blake, it sounds to me that Ilia read a book on how cats have…ah…relations.” He could not quite bring himself to say the word _sex_ in front of his daughter. He’d probably never be able to do that. “We are indeed cat Faunus, but that’s _not_ how things work with us.”

“Oh…okay.” Blake blew out a breath. “I just thought that it sounded so horrible.”

Kali hugged her. “Well, it’s not. When you’re old enough, and you meet the right person…you’ll know.”

“And you’d better not meet the right person until you’re at least eighteen. And he’d better meet with _my_ approval,” Ghira rumbled, and crackled his knuckles dramatically. "And you'd better be married."

Blake slid off the stool, went over, and hugged her father. “Thanks, Dad. You’ll protect me from the bad boys, right?”

“I’ll protect you from the bad anything, Blake.” He ruffled her hair. “Now go put away your things, wash up for dinner, and tell Ilia she’s full of it. Or have her talk to your mother. There’s no telling what she’s being told in that orphanage.”

“Okay, Dad.” Blake kissed her father on the cheek, then did the same to her mother, and walked briskly back into the living room. Kali and Ghira shared a glance. He bit his lip. “Don’t you dare,” she warned him. “Don’t you _dare_ start laughing.”

“And here I thought—“

“Ghira, I swear to all the gods, don’t you dare—“

“—that I was ribbed for your pleasure.”

Kali took a deep breath, walked with great dignity onto the balcony, chose the corner the furthest away from Blake’s room, and collapsed in laughter. 

_Atlas Academy_

_Nine Years and Adam Taurus Later_

Yang was laughing as well. “Oh my _gods,_ Blake. You fell for that!”

Blake hit her with a pillow. “Shut up, Yang! I was twelve! We hadn’t had sex ed yet! I was naïve! Ilia scared the shit out of me!”

“Barbed dicks!” Yang snorted. “Yeah, that would smart a bit, wouldn’t it. And the digging out part…eeyouch.”

“Yeah. I’m glad that whoever engineered the Faunus didn’t go _that_ far.” Blake retrieved her pillow. “Your turn.”

“What? Dad told us the birds and the bees. Pretty straightforward. Tab A into Slot B. Told us that if any boy tried to get fresh with us without our permission, we could break any two bones of our choice.” Yang thought for a moment. “Though for awhile there, Ruby _was_ threatening to shoot any boy who got within three feet of her. I think she was convinced you could become pregnant by osmosis.” She shrugged. “There really wasn’t anything too embarassing. Any girl stuff that Dad didn’t cover school did, or Madame Mallari down the road.” It had been the latter who had advised Yang and Ruby about the use of tampons; that was one avenue Taiyang was rather reluctant to go down. 

“Well, that’s my story.” Blake turned over, though she was still smiling. “I guess it was pretty funny, looking back.”

It was quiet for a moment. “Blake?” Yang said into the silence.

“Yes, Yang?”

“There’s nothing barbed on me, either.”

Blake felt a hand on her rear end, and chuckled. “Bullshit,” she told Yang, as she turned over to kiss her lover. “Your nails need trimming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like "More Lusty Adventures of Blake and Yang" (sort of) to get the muse going again. 
> 
> I'm still very much taking requests, too. I've got about eight more chapters roughly outlined (most of which come from reader ideas), but I can always use more!


	38. The Merry Widow(s)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Jaune Arc wants to do after a long day of herding children at school is to go back to the dorm, relax, and maybe play some video games with Team RWBY.
> 
> The thirsty moms of Mantle have other ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! This one took a bit to write. There were a lot of characters to go through. Poor Jaune.
> 
> Since the "thirsty moms" are never given names or much else besides one appearance, I had to make up some personalities based on that one appearance. So these are pretty much all just guesses and headcanon. The names, of course, are all from mothers in Greek mythology (except one). You might also get the in-joke with their last names... 
> 
> Poor Jaune.

Jaune Arc was tired, but he had to admit he was happy. It had been a good day.

At first, he’d been really disappointed when he’d ended up on school safety duty. He was a Huntsman, for the gods’ sake: a man who had faced the Fall Maiden and the minions of Salem the Undead, a man who had survived the fall of Beacon and a trek across a continent. And while the other members of Team RWBY and JNR held off Grimm at the walls or guarded supply runs to Amity, he was…chivvying kids into line, making sure they got on the bus, and breaking up the occasional fight. It didn’t help that everyone gave him good-natured hell about it.

But after a fortnight of doing it, Jaune actually found himself kind of enjoying the work. It might not be as exciting as fighting a Grimm horde, but it was quite a bit safer, and he could use a break. The kids, at first, laughed at him, but then they learned he was a real live Huntsman. They now treated him with respect and a bit of awe. He joked with them and, after a day or two, they joked back. The children’s mothers—nearly all of whom were widows or single moms, which was a bit of a downer when one thought about it—had been standoffish at first, but they’d warmed up to him, and now they were quite friendly. Maybe a little too much. He’d already gotten at least three casseroles, and it would take a blind man, and a stupid one, to realize that their minds were on more than making sure Jaune ate well. Nora teased him about the “hot, thirsty moms.” Jaune had no intention of indulging any of the ladies. Not that they were unattractive, of course, and most weren’t _that_ much older than him…

Jaune commanded himself to stop thinking like that. He was tired, that was all. He was _not_ thinking about that blonde lady who liked to make the casseroles, and what she looked like without that red jacket, or how she would look in nothing but an apron. He was _not._

Jaune shook his head to clear his brain of those thoughts, and continued his walk towards the airship station. He needed to get back to the Atlas Academy dorm, have something to eat— _not_ casserole—and play some video games. Maybe see if Yang wanted to play another round of _Super Ultra Homicide XII EX_. Maybe see if Weiss wanted to play something else—

_Gad, Jaune, stop it! What the hell is wrong with you, man?_

Then he saw her walking towards him. She was another blond, though more of a dirty blonde than the Casserole Girl, dressed in a teal coat and leggings against the Mantle chilly air. Jaune remembered her name—Rhea Pinkerton. She waved enthusiastically. “Hey, Jaune!”

“Oh. Hello, Mrs. Pinkerton.”

She waited for him to catch up, then began walking with him. “Enough with the ‘mrs.,’” she smiled. “You can call me Rhea, Jaune.”

“Um, sure, Rhea.”

There was silence for a few moments, as Jaune frantically tried to think of a way out of this, though all she was doing was walking next to him. “So…headed home?” Rhea asked.

“Yeah. Been a long day.”

“Sure, sure.” She bit her lip and looked away. “I don’t suppose…you’d be interested in a spot of coffee? There’s an Apollo’s just down the street.”

Jaune almost said yes, but he had a bad feeling about this, so he shook his head. “No, Rhea. I’d better not.”

She looked at him, then smiled again. “Look, Jaune. I like you. All of us like you. But some of us like you more…if you get my drift.” He started walking faster, to put more distance between them, but Rhea lengthened her stride. “Not me, Jaune. I think you’re attractive, yes, but I actually _have_ a boyfriend. No, I’m trying to get you out of a bad situation.”

“R-really?” Jaune felt relief. She wasn’t trying to seduce him. “I just thought…you were kind of really friendly…”

She giggled. “Jaune, I’ll flirt and joke with you, but I’m not trying to get into your pants. No, thanks. Been there, done that with a Huntsman. I’m good.” Jaune wanted to ask if the Huntsman in question, who was probably the father of her child, was dead or had simply disappeared. But that wouldn’t be very polite. “However,” she warned, “the other moms…they might have different opinions. And I’ll be honest with you, Huntsman Arc…they’re laying in wait. I don’t know how they know your route home—maybe they followed you or something—but they’re there. All of them.” She patted his shoulder. “Best of luck. And if you do decide to indulge them, just remember, no glove, no love.”

_Wonderful,_ Jaune thought. _She sounds like my mother. Or my older sisters, which is worse._ “You mean they’re—“

“Yep. You sure you don’t want that coffee?”

Jaune sighed and closed his eyes. “No. I guess I’d better get this over with.” He nodded at her. “Thanks, Rhea. Don’t worry—nothing’s going to happen. I kind of have a girlfriend myself. I’ll let them down easy.”

“Good man.” She winked and turned down a side street, shaking her head, knowing Jaune didn’t have a prayer.

Jaune reached the uplink station, feeling like a wanted man. He watched the shadows as if Neo Politan was about to leap out of each one—which gave him a terrible thought, wondering if Neo was going to disguise herself as one of the moms to kill him—but nothing happened. He waited in line, then got on the airship along with six other people. As it rose into the air on the short 15-minute trip to Atlas, he leaned back and relaxed.

“Yo.”

Jaune’s head came up, and to his horror, sitting across the aisle from him was another of the moms. Her skin was as pale as Weiss’, and she was dressed in a striped shirt, purple jacket and boots, and purple cap. For some reason, she eschewed gloves for wrapped hands, which made Jaune wonder if she was a Huntress herself when he’d first met her. But Cybele Brown was not a Huntress; that was just the way she dressed. Jaune pressed himself into the corner of the seat and the doorway as she got up and sat down next to him. Nor was Cybele shy: she scooted right next to him so that her tight jeans were against his hip. “How’re you, Jaune?”

“Uh, hi, Mrs. Brown.”

“Cybele. Or just Cy.”

“Er, hi, Cy.”

She smiled thinly. “So…whatcha doing?”

“Um, I’m going home.”

“Alone?”

“Er, I guess so.”

“Nah. I’m here now.” She snuggled up next to him, and Jaune resisted the temptation to open the airship doors and leap out. It wasn’t that far to the ground, and he had his shield, so he had a landing strategy. She reached into a pocket. “You smoke, man?”

“Um, no?”

“Yeah, me neither.” She pulled out a stick of gum. “Had to give that shit up when I got preggers. But it’s all good. Now I’m into all natural stuff.” She sniffed at him. “Man, is that cologne you’re wearing?”

“Er, no…it’s deodorant. You know, I get sweaty chasing those kids around!” Jaune laughed nervously, turning a few heads on the airship, but soon they went back to ignoring him and Cybele. 

“You shouldn’t wear that stuff. They test that shit on animals, man. Bad for Remnant.” She cracked her gum, then seemed to remember something, and held out a stick for him. Jaune, afraid Cybele might make a scene if he refused, nodded and took a stick. It didn’t taste all that good. “Natural flavor,” she explained. “Yeah. I buy it at a little corner store down on Gaea Street.”

“Um, okay.” Jaune didn’t know Mantle that well, but he’d heard of Gaea Street. It was where one could find “alternative” things—music, plants, food, and things that were probably illegal. He was pretty sure that was where Yang had gotten that Vacuo stuff that had turned Ruby into a slobbering lust monster when she’d accidentally baked it into some cookies. 

“You seem kinda nervous, dude. No reason to be.” She snuggled up even more and put a hand on his leg. Cybele glanced out of the window. “Listen, Jaune. We don’t got a lot of time before we land, so I’m just going to get right to the point.” She dropped her voice and leaned forward until she was whispering in his ear. “You wanna square the circle with me?”

“I don’t know what that means,” Jaune said truthfully.

“Sorry, man. Let me be a bit more articulate. You wanna sleep with me? Have sex? Bang?”

Jaune shook his head frantically. Cybele _was_ attractive, no question, but such a bald declaration of her intentions was not the way to get him going. And she was the mother of a child he saw every day. And there was something else. “Uh, Mrs. Brown, Cy…aren’t you…married?”

She rolled her eyes. “Man, where did you grow up? Vale? You’re so old-fashioned.” She yawned. “It’s an open relationship. He doesn’t mind. Matter of fact, I mean, I could give him a ring, y’know? He wouldn’t mind. We could find a sitter. I’m open to new things, man. Shish-kebabs are kinda hawt, you know?”

The airship slowed as the engines rotated upwards. Jaune looked out the window, saw that they were fifty feet above the landing pad, and pushed Cybele to one side. “Getting out early here, pilot!” he yelled. “Huntsman business!” He pushed the emergency exit button, slid open the door, and leapt out of the airship. Luckily, his landing strategy had gotten better since Beacon. 

Cybele cracked her gum as she watched Jaune run for all he was worth. “Man, what a weirdo.” She pulled out her Scroll and dialed a number. “Yo, Themis. He’s coming your way. Yeah, I struck out, man. Best of luck.”

Jaune rounded a corner from the downlink station and stopped, catching his breath. _Gods, she was just so…forward! Just asking me for sex right there! At least she was whispering it. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to look her kid in the face tomorrow!_

He brushed the dust from his pants and began the long walk from the downlink station to Atlas Academy. It was about a mile between the two, and Jaune kept glancing over his shoulder, wondering if Cybele was in pursuit. After about a quarter of a mile, he figured he was in the clear and slowed his walk down.

“Psst! Jaune!” 

Jaune turned, looking for where the voice was coming from. There were some outbuildings on this section of the academy, just storage sheds, mainly. His hand went instinctively to his sword. “Who’s there?”

There was a giggle. “Oh, you Huntsmen are so paranoid. It’s just me.” She came out from behind a crate. Dark-skinned, she wore green leggings, a dark gray jacket, and a white shirt; her hair was a light gray, but she was by no means old. Jaune’s heart sank. “Oh, um, hi, Miss Orange.”

She snickered. “Hello, Jaune!” She walked up to him. Of the moms he’d met, Demeter Orange was the shortest. She was also the most well-endowed, and the white shirt she wore was pulled down, exposing a great deal of cleavage. It was also fairly obvious that she wasn’t wearing a bra; it was a bit nippy in Atlas this night. 

“What are you doing here, Miss Orange?” Jaune asked, though he already knew the answer. Rhea hadn’t been kidding.

Demeter laughed. “You Huntsmen are so naïve!” She came up to him and put her arm through his, and began guiding him towards Atlas Academy. “C’mon, Jaune. Rhea didn’t tell you? We all got together, all the moms, and we’ve decided tonight is the night!” She laughed again. “But none of us could agree on who should try their luck first, so we’re all going to give it a shot. Rhea wasn’t much for it, but she’s kind of a prude. And I knew that pothead Cybele wouldn’t make it, so—here I am.”

“Oh gods.” 

Demeter pulled her arm out from his, grasped both his hands, and spun him around. She was a bit stronger than she looked. “Oh, you Huntsmen are so nervous!” She stopped spinning him and boldly brought herself right up against him. “It’s all that fighting Grimm. Well, I’m no Grimm, Jaune.” She licked her lips. “Though I might just eat you up.” She chortled at her own joke.

“But why? I mean, I’m not all that good looking. I'm kind of a noodle…”

She ran her hands underneath his armor, bare hands on bare chest, and he jumped; her hands were cold. “You don’t feel like a noodle to me. Well, maybe not up here.” Her hand went for the waistband of his pants, and Jaune leapt backwards with speed Pyrrha would’ve been proud of. Demeter folded her arms across her breasts. “Jaune, what is wrong with you?” She cocked her head to one side. “Unless you don’t like girls? I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that if you don’t…”

Jaune was tempted to lie that, yes, he liked guys, but something told him not even _that_ would dissuade Demeter. She’d probably see it as a challenge. “Um, Miss Orange, er, Demeter—I like girls just fine, it’s just that, well—“

She stepped close again, and then let out a guffaw. “Oh, I get it. It’s because I’m a mom?”

Jaune nodded frantically, though that actually had nothing to do with it. “Yes! That’s it! You’re a mother! I’m not ready to be a dad!”

She slapped her knees in mirth. “I’m not talking about marriage. Oh, you Huntsmen are so silly! I just want a fling, y’know? Roll in the hay?” She ran her hands over her hips, which were concealed by the jacket. “And being a mom means I’m saddlebroken, so no worries there, Jaune.” She pressed herself into him again, her breasts squishing against his chest. She tittered. “C’mon, Huntsman. Show me that sword.” Now her hands were questing again, and to Jaune’s chagrin, they found their destination. Worse, Demeter’s hands were skilled, because it didn’t take much teasing to before Jaune’s sword, as it were, started leaving its sheath.

“Miss Orange—“

“Demeter.”

“Demeter, we can’t do this right here!” It was true. The boulevard was deserted, but that was because he’d caught the first airship after dusk. Pretty soon the other Huntsmen and students assigned to the academy would be returning from their tasks. He didn’t want Team RWBY to see him like this, especially Weiss. Or worse, Nora and Ren.

She withdrew her hand. “That’s true. Let’s go to your room, instead.” She laughed and winked. “I know the way.”

“Wait. _How_ do you know the way? How did you and Cybele know the airship I take home?”

She gave a snort. “That’s our secret, Jaune.”

Twenty miles away and one mile down, Tyrian Callows rolled his eyes. “You did _what?”_

Arthur Watts, leaning against the wall of the alley, absently tapped his Scroll. “You heard me.”

“You gave that bastard Jaune Arc’s dorm room number and airship route to a bunch of horny moms? Why?”

Watts looked up, an expression of contempt on his face. “Because I felt like it. And they paid me.” He fished a wad of lien from his pocket. “Now, do you want some Schnee Stone Creamery or not?”

Tyrian clapped his hands together and laughed hysterically. 

“Demeter, please, I just don’t think this is a good idea!” Jaune pleaded. She had grabbed him again—his hands this time, luckily—and was dragging him down the boulevard. 

“Oh, it’s funny how you Huntsmen act all shy and reluctant, but when you get in the bedroom, you’re like bulls!” She cackled. “Now come along quietly, Jaune, or—“

“Hello, Jaune!”

Jaune turned at the new female voice, but was quite thankful that this one didn’t belong to a mother. Penny Polendina slowly descended on jets of flame as she landed behind him; she didn’t need an airship to get around. She waved and grinned. “Hello!” she repeated, as Jaune had not returned her greeting. “Who’s your friend?”

Jaune saw his chance. He quickly got out of Demeter’s grasp, got around her, and pushed her towards the robot. “Penny, this is Miss Demeter Orange! She got on the wrong airship, and I was going to call her another one from Atlas Academy! Can you get her home? I really, _really_ got to get back up to my room! Team RWBY had to meet with me about Grimm! More Grimm stuff! Yep, important meeting!”

Penny looked a little confused, but then nodded. Team RWBY were already back at the dorms, she knew; she’d said hello to Ruby earlier. “Oh, of course! I will make sure I get her home, Jaune.” Penny took Demeter by the hand. “Come on, Miss Orange! I can fly you down. Don’t worry, I’m flight capable and I’ve never dropped a passenger yet!”

“Wait!” Demeter yelled, but Penny gathered her up in an iron embrace, and launched herself into the air. Demeter reached fruitlessly for Jaune, but he was already turning into a speck in the distance. She sighed, then laughed softly. “Oh well,” she breathed. “Best of luck, Themis and Persephone.”

“Who?” Penny asked.

Jaune fell back on long nights of training with Pyrrha, long days of avoiding Cardin Winchester at Beacon, and the trip to Haven. He evaded crowds, avoided the elevator, took the fire escapes, doubled back on his track, and even slipped off his boots when he reached the hall where the teams were assigned rooms. He thought about hiding out with Team RWBY, or Nora and Ren, but knew they’d tease him unmercifully. Jaune reached his dorm room, and relaxed. _Okay,_ he told himself. _There’s no way they know what dorm room I live in. There’s hundreds of rooms. I’ll get in, get this armor off, and then…then call Team RWBY. Yeah. Play some video games with Yang and Weiss. Safety in numbers._ Jaune ran his keycard through the key reader and opened the door.

“You gave them a duplicate keycard too?” Tyrian exclaimed through a mouth of Rocky Road. “Dammit, Watts! I was saving that one for when I kill him!”

Watts sighed. “Keep your voice down, Tyrian. We’re in a public place.”

Jaune walked into the dorm room and closed the door softly. It was deserted. He blew out his breath, slipped off his boots, put Crocea Mors on the weapons rack by the door, then got out of the armor and the hoodie. Now dressed in his slacks and undershirt, he walked into the main part of the room.

“Hello, Jaune.”

He whirled to see Persephone Blue lying on his bed. She was a tanned beauty, and of all the moms, she’d been the most open about her intentions towards Jaune Arc, one each. Nothing had changed, because now she was stark naked. Jaune swallowed audibly. It was all there, in spades: she did not have particularly large breasts, but ones that were quite proportion to her slim body. As he stared, she ran a hand over her thighs and the groomed nest between her legs. “Like what you see, Jaune?”

“What the…what the hell—“

She levered herself upright. “Yeah, I knew Demeter and Cybele wouldn’t make it. Demeter can never stop laughing long enough to seduce anyone, and Cybele’s not playing with a full deck. But I am, Jaune.” She sat crosslegged, which left nothing to the imagination. “I got it all, right here.”

“How did you get in here?” Jaune demanded.

“Does it matter?” She slid off the bed, and took two steps to him. They were about the same height; she was a bit shorter, but not by much. She stood on tiptoes and kissed him. Her lips were warm and moist, and all her femininity and feminine byproducts pressed against him made Jaune’s body respond, even if he didn’t want it to. “Oh, that’s for me, isn’t it?”

“Um…Persephone?” The muffled voice came from the room’s closet.

Persephone stopped, and smiled. “Sorry. I guess I am being a bit selfish.” She raised her voice. “Come on out, Themis.”

To Jaune’s utter shock, his closet door opened. Out stepped Themis Blue, Persephone’s sister. The two weren’t twins, but there was no doubt they were sisters, though Themis’ hair was not quite as dark, and she was a good bit taller. In fact, she was taller than Jaune; the only woman he’d met that was taller than Themis was Elm Elderne of Ace Ops. She was also naked, though her hands came up to cover herself. Persephone stepped back from Jaune and motioned to her sister. Themis shuffled over, and Persephone gently pushed down her sister’s hands, allowing Jaune to see all of her, as well. “That’s right, Jaune,” the elder Blue said. “You get to fuck us both.”

“Persephone!” Themis protested. “Language!”

“Oh, don’t start,” Persephone told her. “You agreed to this.”

“Well, yes, but…he seems a little…he seems a bit scared…”

“Right now he is,” Persephone scoffed, “but not for long.” She threw Jaune a smoldering look. “So what about it, Jaune? You got two hot moms right here. The kids are in bed, with a sitter, so we got all night. How would you like to start? Themis can suck the chrome off of a Paladin.”

Themis’ hands covered her face. “Persephone, stop! You’re so mean!”

“Or if you don’t want to do that…” Persephone reached behind Jaune and slapped him on the rear. “I give rimjobs.”

“But-but I don’t own a car,” Jaune replied. 

“That’s not what…you know what? Never mind.” She began pushing Jaune towards the bed. “Just lay down, sexy, and Themis and I will do all the work.” She leaned close. “Don’t worry about my sister. She’s shy now, but once you’re in her, she turns into a spastic tiger. Hope your aura is ready, Jaune.”

“I can hear you!” Themis said. She stomped her foot. “Don’t say such nasty things, Persephone!”

“Oh, stop it, Themis! Do you want to screw him or not?” Persephone shot back.

“Well, um…yes…” the younger sister said, looking away.

“Then get over here. You can go first; I’m not selfish…” She shivered. “Hey. Why is it cold all of a sudden?” She shoved Jaune onto the bed, then looked down. Her feet were slowly being encased in ice. “What the hell?”

Weiss Schnee walked into the room, dragging the tip of Myrtenaster on the floor. Jaune was quite thankful that Weiss, at least, was dressed, even if it was her nightgown. “Now what do we have here?” Weiss asked. “May I ask who the two of you are?”

“I’m, um, Themis Blue,” the tall woman said, shivering, since her feet were now frozen to the floor as well, “and this is my sister, Persephone…”

“Who the fuck are you?” Persephone demanded.

“Weiss Schnee.” 

“Oh great, a damned Schnee—“ Weiss pressed the tip of Myrtenaster deeper into the carpet of the dorm room, and ice began climbing up Persephone’s ankles. 

“I don’t have to ask what you’re doing. That much is obvious.” Weiss turned a glacier stare on Jaune. “Do you want this, Jaune?”

“No!” Jaune insisted. “They broke into my room! I mean, yeah, they’re pretty and all, but holy crap!” Jaune looked at the two women. “I’m sorry,” he said, in a lower voice. “But this…this isn’t really what I want.”

Themis sighed. “I _told_ you, Percy. I _told_ you we were coming on too strong.”

Persephone scowled. “It would’ve worked, if not for a meddling Schnee!”

“That’s enough.” Weiss pulled her sword up, and the ice began to dissipate. “Jaune says he doesn’t want you here, so please get dressed and leave.”

“Fine.” Persephone pulled her feet from what was left of the ice, rubbed them, and then went over to the closet, pulling out a pile of clothes. She threw some at her sister, and Weiss waited patiently as they dressed. Once they were done, Persephone looked at Jaune. “No hard feelings, no pun intended?”

Jaune shook his head. “No hard feelings, Miss Blue.”

“Ah well. If you ever change your mind, for either of us…” Persephone let the words hang in the air as she left the room. Themis waved and followed her sister out. After the door closed, Weiss leaned Myrtenaster against the kitchenette counter and sat on the bed next to Jaune. 

“It’s a long story,” he said.

“I think I already know it.” Weiss smiled. “A bunch of lonely, thirsty mothers saw the very handsome Jaune Arc, and decided to make a play for him. It’s understandable. Though they probably would’ve gotten further if they’d done what I did.”

He sat up, hesitated, and took her hand. “Like what? I mean, you just came in my room that one night…”

“I said please.” Weiss didn’t look at him. “Well. I was actually going down the hall to talk to Nora when I heard a bunch of talking and yelling from your room, and didn’t recognize the voice, so I came in.” She knew the combination to his room lock by heart. “I honestly hope I didn’t interrupt anything, Jaune. I don’t have a hold on you. We’re just…friends. Friends with benefits to be sure, but friends.”

“No, you’re right. They didn’t say please.” Jaune could not bring himself to say it, but he didn’t want Rhea, Cybele, Demeter, Themis or Persephone—though all were very tempting. The only woman he wanted, besides Pyrrha Nikos, was sitting in front of him. 

“I suppose…” Weiss began, then licked her suddenly dry lips. “I suppose I could take up where they left off.”

“Only if you want to.”

She leaned forward until they could taste the other’s breath. “I think I do—“ Then there was a knocking on the door. “Dammit! Who could _that_ be?” Weiss snapped angrily. 

“Let me get it.” Jaune got up, adjusted himself so his arousal was not quite so obvious, and walked to the door. He opened it. 

Standing there was a blonde woman. Normally, she wore a very distinctive red jacket, but now she was wearing an apron. And nothing else. “J-Jane?” Jaune stammered. 

“Uh, hi!” She grinned at him, blushing. “I was wondering if you were hungry?” Her hands came out from behind her back, holding out another casserole. “For food? Or me?”

Jaune covered his eyes with his hands.


	39. A Touch of Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby and Oscar have gotten together for a night of loving bliss...but Ruby wants to experiment a little. She wants to try some roleplaying, and maybe just a little bondage. After all, lovers can try new things, right?
> 
> And there's no way in Remnant that this can go horribly wrong, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, tonight's chapter was going to be May Zedong and Marrow Amin, because that's a ship nobody's ever launched--I got some great ideas for that one on vacation. But then CJ Lowder gave me an idea, and it was just too good to pass up. Sorry, May and Marrow.

“You want me to do _what?_ ” Oscar asked.

Ruby nodded happily and held up the red cord. “Yep.”

“You want me to tie you up, blindfold you, and—“

“Have your wicked way of me! Yep!” Ruby had read that in one of Blake’s trashy novels, and thought it sounded appropriate.

Oscar picked up one of the red cords. It was a bungee cord, used to secure supplies on the Amity supply runs. “But this isn’t really going to, well, immobilize you, Ruby.”

“Oh, I know. I don’t want you to _really_ tie me up, Oscar. It’s just pretend. Just for fun.”

Oscar weighed the cord in his hands. He’d noticed, even before he and Ruby had become lovers, that her attention span was not terribly long, about that of a three-year old with a new toy. Once they had gotten over the initial novelty of making love on a regular basis, it had not taken Ruby long to get a little bored of the usual in-out, in-out, as Yang had referred to it once. So they’d begun experimenting, first with nubbed condoms (which had driven Ruby wild—unfortunately, it had driven her wild in front of her _own team_ ). Then they’d done some roleplaying (with Oscar playing doctor, which had been fun but weird). And now Ruby wanted to combine the two. It was the first night they’d both had off in a few days, and she’d sprung her wish to be tied up on him as soon as she’d walked in his dorm room door. She’d also discussed it with him while stripping to her underwear, which was a deliberate ploy to wear down Oscar’s rhetorical defenses. 

And dammit, Oscar thought, it was working. 

“Okay,” he gave in. “But I don’t want you to tie me up to reciprocate, okay?” Getting arrested by Ace Ops had been bad enough.

“Awww,” Ruby sighed. Having Oscar at her mercy gave her a thrill. Still, she’d gotten what she wanted…for now.

There were no bedposts on Oscar’s bed—one of several times he’d missed being back on the farm—so he wrapped the bungee cords loosely around Ruby’s wrists and ankles. At first, he put her hands behind her back, but that was too uncomfortable, so they settled for binding her hands to the front. They were loose enough that she could easily slip out of them. Then he put her sleeping mask over her eyes; Ruby could see out from under it, but it would not be easy to do so. She shuddered deliciously with anticipation.

“Okay, now what?” Oscar asked. Obviously he was going to have to take her underwear off, but it seemed a little strange to make love to Ruby when she was tied up and blindfolded. It wasn’t really doing anything for him. 

“Roleplay!” Ruby said happily. 

“Uh…” Oscar wasn’t really sure what scenario would work here.

Luckily, Ruby had a bit more vivid of an imagination than Oscar Pine. “Well, let’s see. You’re…you’re an evil overlord who has captured me. You’re going to have sex with me while I’m all tied up.”

“I don’t know, Ruby,” Oscar said. “That sounds a bit like…you know…” He didn’t even want to say the word. 

“It’s not,” she insisted. “It’s okay, Oscar. I know you would never hurt me. It’s like in some videos I watched on the internet and…and just forget I just said that.” She smiled at him. “I trust you, Oscar.”

“Should we have some sort of safe word or something?” He’d heard that somewhere. Oscar, truth to be told, had never watched any sort of the lewd things on the internet, and was a little surprised Ruby had. Weiss, maybe—Oscar figured there was something white-hot beneath her icy exterior. Blake probably, given her taste in books, and hot-blooded Yang, definitely. He gave it some thought. “Like, I don’t know—checkmate?” He’d been playing chess on his Scroll before Ruby had arrived.

“Sure, that’s—no, wait,” Ruby amended herself. “That’s a bad idea. That’s the code for one of our team attacks. I yell ‘Checkmate!’ and Blake and Weiss will come through that door ready to kill. “How about ‘Penny’?”

“That works.” If there was anything that would dampen Oscar’s ardor, it was the thought of sweet, innocent, naïve, killer war machine Penny Polendina. 

She settled back, scooting herself onto a pillow. _Apparently I’ve been imprisoned by a very considerate evil overlord,_ Ruby giggled to herself. 

Oscar stripped down to his shirt and pants; he thought about taking the latter off, but he wouldn’t feel much like an evil overlord in his skivvies. He didn’t feel like one anyway. He did take off his boots. _Evil overlord, evil overlord,_ he thought to himself, _okay…so I guess that would be like a male Salem._ He remembered the stories Ozpin had told him about Salem, and what they’d seen in Jinn’s vision. He wasn’t going to go full genocidal maniac, of course, but he could at least channel Salem’s evility. Or something. Looking around, he saw Ruby’s cape lying on the floor, and put it on. With the red cape, he felt a little more bad.

“So, Ruby Rose,” he chortled, pitching his voice a little lower, “you thought you could sneak into my castle, ha ha! But now you are my prisoner!”

“Oh, woe is me!” Ruby cried. “Stay away from me, you foul creature!”

Oscar almost burst out laughing, but knew if he did, the fantasy—what little of it existed—would be over. Ruby was already grinning. “Oh, but I won’t, Ruby. I shall…have my wicked way of you. And there is _nothing_ you can do about it! Your Semblance will not work while you are in my magical chains.”

“Oh, nice touch,” Ruby commented.

“Ruby!”

“Sorry. Er…oh no! Without my Semblance I am helpless!” Ruby made an utterly synthetic effort to break her bonds. “You won’t win, Evil Overlord! My team will rescue me!”

“Your team?” Oscar thought fast. “Ha! They will do nothing, Ruby! They too have been captured and are helpless in my dungeon!” He reached forward and ran a hand down one shapely leg and Ruby jumped. “But you…you, Ruby Rose, have been selected for _special_ treatment.”

_Hot damn!_ Ruby thought. This was turning her on more than she’d dreamed. “Oh no!” she said. “Not special treatment! Please, no! Someone help!”

“Please _yes,_ ” Oscar laughed evilly, or as close as he could get. “There is no escape!”

Blake Belladonna was coming back from the gym when she heard Ruby pleading for help. Blake’s hand went to Gambol Shroud on her back, but then she heard Oscar laughing. It wasn’t his normal, somewhat subdued laugh, but a laugh so transparently meant to be bad that Blake nearly started laughing herself. She stepped closer and put both sets of ears against Oscar’s door. Ruby continued to plead while Oscar continued to laugh. When he said that he was going to ravish her, and Ruby’s pleas were so obviously permission to ravish her until her toes curled, Blake covered her mouth to stop her snickers, then left before they heard her. She would give her friends privacy; Ruby would do the same if it was her and Yang. Most of the time, anyway.

Blake went into Team RWBY’s dorm room. Yang was sitting in bed, while Weiss was on hers, above Yang's, braiding her white hair. “Yang, were you thinking about going anywhere tonight?”

“Nope. Wasn’t planning on it.” Blake noticed Yang’s voice was brittle, which it was when Yang was upset but didn't want to admit it.

“Oh, so you know Ruby is with Oscar, then,” Blake observed.

“Yep.”

Blake put Gambol Shroud on the weapons rack, then walked over and sat down at the computer to get her boots off. “And you know what they’re up to.”

“Yep.”

“And you decided to borrow my book.” It was _Ninjas of Love X: Tentacles Are Fun._ “And you’re bending the spine.”

“And the bottom of my bed is distinctly getting hotter,” Weiss added.

“That’s likely because her hair is starting to glow,” Blake told Weiss.

“Yep and _yep!”_ Yang snarled. 

Blake went over and put an arm around her friend and lover. “She’s not little anymore, Yang. Ruby can take care of herself. And you know Oscar would die before he hurt her.”

“Oscar dying sounds like something I could get behind.” Yang gritted her teeth, then closed her eyes and let out her breath. “I know, guys…I know.” Yang would accept the fact that Ruby was old enough to have a lover, and that Oscar was a good match. She would. Just not tonight. So she went back to Blake’s smut, while the owner of said smut began massaging her shoulders.

“No, no, no…” Ruby pleaded, her heart hammering. Oscar had spread her ankles as far apart as the bungee cord would go; of course, she was doing part of that herself. Oscar, for his part, stalked around the bed, occasionally giving another evil laugh, then running his fingers up her flanks. He was really getting into the part. 

“And now, Ruby…now we…” Oscar paused. “Okay, time out for a second.”

“Huh? What for?” The last thing Ruby wanted was a time out.

“Well, if I’m an evil overlord, wouldn’t I just tear off your underwear? It doesn’t sound very evil to just slip them off you.” He pulled a small pair of scissors out of his sewing kit. “I could cut them off.”

“Hmm. Yeah, that makes sense. Sure.” Ruby put up her hands. “Um, just the panties, though. They’re an older pair and I’ve got spares. This bra is new, though.” Oscar could see that. It was black lace and roses. The panties were just plain red ones, more for comfort than erotic.

“No problem.” Oscar set aside the scissors for now, reached forward, and undid the bra’s front clasp. He’d gotten pretty good at that. The cups fell away to expose Ruby’s small but still very attractive bust. The pink nipples were rock hard. Oscar swallowed at the sight.

“Oh gods!” Ruby said with a fake sniffle. “My bosom! You’ve exposed my bosom! What are you going to do?”

“Whatever I want!” Oscar snorted. He figured an evil overlord would do something really lewd, so he dragged his tongue across both nipples. Ruby gasped, and this time she was _not_ faking it. “And now to expose you completely, Ruby Rose!”

“No, please! Anything but that!”

Oscar grabbed the scissors and—carefully, making sure he wasn’t close to breaking the skin—sliced off her panties. With a chuckle, he pulled them away, and brought them up to his face. “Ahh, Ruby Rose! Your underwear smells—“ Oscar’s nose wrinkled; actually, her underwear smelled sweaty, and sniffing her panties was an evil bridge too far. “Never mind,” he said, and threw them over his shoulder. “You smell of fear, my sweet!” he finished, trying to recover.

“I’m not afraid of you, you…evil person!” she exclaimed. “You may take my womanhood, but you’ll never take my freedom!” Oscar blinked; that was actually a really good line. Now he kind of felt like a bastard. He hesitated, and even blindfolded, Ruby knew it. “I don’t care how many times your foul tongue tastes my body, I will never be yours!”

Oscar knew an invitation when he heard one, but there was a problem. The sight of Ruby now completely naked and sort-of tied up had the desired effect, and his erection was straining painfully against his pants and underwear. His tongue simply would not do. He shook himself and remained in character. “You will not feel the pleasure of my tongue, Ruby Rose,” he snapped. Quickly he unbuckled his pants and slid off both those and his underwear, hopping around in the process, which did not feel at all like something an evil overlord would do. “You will feel the power of my…” Oscar stopped. What could he call it? There were many words, but using the more foul ones seemed wrong for the story, somehow. He decided to be accurate. “You will feel the power of my hot, throbbing manhood!”

Ruby snorted and began to laugh. “Dammit, Ruby!” Oscar protested.

“Sorry, it’s just…’hot throbbing manhood’?”

“Well, what was I supposed to say?”

_Here comes my dick_ sprang into Ruby’s mind, and she started laughing even more, bringing her hands up to her mouth to try and muffle it. Oscar stood, fists on his hips, wearing nothing now but his shirt. “Ruby…”

“Sorry, sorry.” Ruby put her hands back down, tried to compose herself, and then started giggling again. Oscar rolled his eyes, then had a very evil overlord thought. He climbed onto the bed, knelt, put a hand between her legs, and started using his fingers. Ruby’s giggles ceased instantly. “Oh ho,” he said, “not so defiant now, are we? Not so funny, is it?”

Ruby was now the one who swallowed audibly. “Please,” she said huskily. “Please, your evilness, don’t…” His fingers slipped inside. Ruby arched her back involuntarily. “Please don’t stop.”

“That’s more like it.” And because he really needed to see her eyes, he reached up and pulled off her blindfold. Ruby blinked and looked at him. She knew she was supposed to look terrified, but one look at Oscar’s face, and she could only smile.

“Please take me, oh evil dude,” she whispered.

“Uh…sure. I-I mean, ha ha, Ruby Rose, I knew you would…” Oscar just couldn’t stay in character. He reached up, cupped her face, and kissed her. Her bound hands got behind his head, and as lovers who know each other do, he pushed into her without the need for sight or hands. Ruby groaned as Oscar sank himself into her, rising from the bed to meet him, slipping her feet out of the cord and tucking them behind him.

He thrust into her slowly, finding the rhythm, and there were no sounds but heavy breathing and the occasional little gasp that escaped Ruby’s lips. Then she remembered—they _were_ supposed to be roleplaying here. “Help me,” she moaned. “The evil overlord has me…oh, help, someone please…”

Oscar laughed softly, slightly increasing the pace. “I’ve got you now. You’re going to pay for…” He temporarily lost his train of thought; having sex did not make one a great conversationalist. “You’re going to pay for whatever it is you’re paying for.”

“Oh, Oscar—er, Evil Overlord, that’s it…ahh…make me pay…”

Ruby was already pretty turned on by the foreplay, which some detached part of her mind wondered if that meant she really _did_ like being tied up. In any case, it wasn’t long before her thighs were gripping Oscar’s sides, as if to push him even deeper into herself, and her eyes had become silver slits. Normally, Ruby was not very vocal, but playing the damsel in distress had knocked out a lot of her inhibitions. Her voice began to rise as she thrust her hips against him. “Ah, gods! Oh, Os—Evil Overlord! Please, oh no, stop! You’re—ah—you’re—I can’t—you can’t—please please _please!”_ Ruby was thrashing around now, her toes painfully curled in sheer ecstasy, as the tidal wave of desire began to crest.

Unfortunately for Ruby Rose and Oscar Pine, the former of which might have acquired some of her uncle’s bad luck Semblance, Penny Polendina had picked that time to walk down the hall of the Atlas Academy dorm. It was the beginning of her nightly patrol, and she usually stopped by to say hello to Team RWBY and JNR.

Had Penny’s programming extended to this sort of situation, she would have done what Blake had—move away, turn down the reception on her auditory sensors, and maybe even laugh a little. Penny was naïve, but she knew Ruby and Oscar were lovers, although she wasn’t exactly sure what that entailed. But she was _not_ programmed for when her best friend was having an orgasm brought on by extended roleplaying; that sort of thing had never occurred to Pietro Polendina, which said a lot of good things about him. 

So when Penny heard Ruby’s gasping pleas, references to an evil overlord, and an exhortation to stop, both her feelings for Ruby and her programming to protect kicked in. She did the same to Oscar’s door, which was not designed to withstand an assault from a warbot. Even as it slammed open, Penny unsheathed her knives from her back, and they began to spin in a lethal cone, each blade honed to laser sharpness and glittering in the soft light. 

Oscar instantly froze, but Ruby couldn’t stop, even if she wanted to. She came with an intensity she’d never known before, not even with the nubbed condom; the effect of Penny breaking down Oscar’s door fed into the fantasy they’d created, and somehow made it even more pleasurable. Ruby screamed, though Oscar did his best to muffle it by kissing her. 

“Oh. Oh my,” Penny said, as her sensors were nearly overwhelmed by the sight in front of her. Not that she could see much besides Ruby’s trembling legs and Oscar’s rear end and back. She turned away, closing her eyes. Though she was curious beyond words, Penny just couldn’t sit there and watch. That would be impolite. As she did so, the knives folded themselves and returned to her back. Once she deduced that Ruby was reaching the end of her orgasm, she said without turning, “I’m very sorry, Oscar and Ruby. I thought—“

“We know,” Oscar finished, trying and not succeeding in keeping the frustration out of his voice. 

Ruby wiped her brow. “Penny,” she puffed, “we were just, um, pretending. You see, Oscar was an evil overlord, and I was his helpless captive, and uh…you know, it just sounds weird when I say it out loud.”

Penny continued to face away from them. “Was this what is called roleplaying, Ruby?”

“Um, yeah.”

“But I thought roleplaying was an activity done in some psychiatric treatment, and sometimes with pen, paper and dice. There is that game—“

“Penny,” Ruby interrupted, “we’re still kinda naked here, and…”

“Oh! Of course. And Oscar has not finished yet. I understand. I will leave immediately.” She closed her eyes, grabbed the door, and pulled it back shut. One hinge had been broken off, so Penny opened her eyes, found the pieces, and welded them back on with her eye lasers. It wasn’t the best repair job, but at least the door was closed now.

Penny nodded and turned, to find Team RWBY and Team JNR looking at her from their dorm rooms. She hesitated, running through 32 different scenarios, including the use of humor, simply walking away, attempting to immobilze both teams, and outright lying, the mere thought of which made her hiccup. She settled on the version of the truth that hopefully would not end with Yang Xiao Long attempting to murder Oscar Pine; at least five of her scenarios had that outcome. “Oscar and Ruby are making tender love,” she said with satisfaction.

“Oh, okay,” Nora Valkyrie said. Lie Ren nodded, and both of them retreated back into their dorm room.

“Well, good for them,” Jaune Arc commented, and seeing Yang’s hair starting to glow, also retreated, much more quickly, into his dorm room.

“Yang,” Blake warned. “Remember what we talked about. No kill I, Yang.” Weiss helpfully reached up and started massaging Yang’s shoulders.

Yang took a deep breath. “I’m okay. I’m okay. Penny, is Ruby okay?”

“Oh yes, Yang. Very much so.” Penny almost added that Ruby had just achieved orgasm, but one of those scenarios had involved Yang tearing Penny’s head off and beating Oscar to death with it, so she wisely did not say more.

“All right. It’s all right. Ruby is a grown woman, and I can handle this. She and Oscar are careful and she will not get preggers or get VD or something.” Yang’s artificial fingers were twitching, and her eyes were turning blood red.

“Yang,” Penny said, “would you like to go to the gym and, I believe the term is, ‘beat the shit’ out of me? I mean, I cannot defecate, so I’m not sure how that would work, but you seem to want to hit something, and my chassis is strong enough to survive a few punches from you at full power.”

Yang nodded slowly. “That would be great, Penny. Yeah, let’s go beat each other up. That sounds like a _superb_ idea.” Blake and Weiss hesitatingly let go of her, and Yang followed Penny down the hallway.

There was luckily silence from Oscar’s room. For a few minutes.

“Nyah ha ha! You are at my mercy, Oscar Pine!”

Now it was Oscar who wore the cords, though they were even looser on him than Ruby. He was still very much naked, and so was Ruby—except for her cape. “Oh no,” Oscar said, in mock terror, though it was hard to simulate terror at the sight of naked Ruby. “What am I going to do? She’s going to eat me! Oh my goooooods!” 

“Ha ha! Mine is an evil laugh!” Ruby knelt down, grasping his erection in one hand. “Now I will take your sperm, Oscar Pi—“ Then Ruby started laughing for real.

Oscar covered his eyes—or tried to, since his hands were sort of bound. “Ruby…”

“I’m sorry!” She wiped a hand over her face, trying to get back into character. She winked at Oscar, then kissed him. “You're mine, Oscar Pine,” she whispered. "Hey, that rhymes!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, CJ's original idea was for Yang to do the door kicking, but Yang would actually understand that Ruby and Oscar weren't hurting each other, and however much Yang doesn't want to admit it, she would know what those two were up to. Penny, on the other hand, wouldn't know, and so it made more sense to have her bust down the door. Poor Penny; she ends up as the butt of too many jokes in this fic. She's really a sweet metal person.
> 
> And yes, I worked Braveheart, Trolls 2, Star Trek, and Firefly references in there.


	40. Somebody's Watching Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby has finally figured out where she can be totally alone with Oscar--Amity Arena! With no one around for miles, she and Oscar can make love with no inquisitive teammates, no overreacting robots, and no overprotective big sisters. There's no one that can stop them now.
> 
> Well, except Salem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's actually a combination of two requests: Doppler for Ruby and Salem to fight it out over Oscar, and Maswartz pointing out that Ruby and Oscar really need to find somewhere more private.
> 
> However, this story does get a bit serious towards the end. I couldn't figure out a way to make it entirely humorous, since Salem is just so much more powerful than Ruby. And she's already made the mistake of getting into a sex contest.

“Ha!” Ruby Rose crowed. “Nobody—not Yang, not Weiss, not Blake, not even Penny—is going to interrupt us here, Oscar.”

Oscar Pine looked around the vastness of the Amity Arena. “That’s for sure, but…Ruby, are you sure you want to _camp_ out here?”

“Sure!” She shrugged off her backpack. “I talked to General Ironwood. He’s cool with it.” Only part of that statement was true. Ruby _had_ talked to Ironwood about it: she suggested that, with Arthur Watts on the loose, it might not be a bad idea to have someone guarding Amity Arena overnight, besides just Atlesian androids and the company assigned to guard the floating structure at the abandoned Dust mine. She’d also said that Oscar would benefit from extra training that only Amity could provide. Though a bit reluctant to do so, Ironwood had agreed, giving Ruby the control that activated the various biomes that the arena could generate, praying that he wasn’t giving a monkey a machine gun. Ruby had grown up very much since Beacon, but she still had a wild streak that he worried about. Still, Ironwood wanted Oscar to succeed, and that was worth the small risk that Ruby would break the place.

What Ruby had _not_ told Ironwood about was that she intended to give Oscar some extra training, all right—the horizontal, naked kind. 

Ruby loved making love to Oscar Pine. The problem was, almost every time they did hook up, it seemed like something would go wrong. The last time, they had tried some cute roleplaying, where Oscar pretended to be an Evil Overlord and Ruby his Helpless Captive. Everything had been going great until Penny Polendina had mistaken Ruby’s cries of ecstasy to be cries for help, and had kicked in Oscar’s dorm room door. Penny had profusely apologized, but then compounded her mistake by informing Team RWBY and JNR just what Ruby and Oscar were up to. Though Ruby and Oscar had been able to finish up and bring things to a satisfactory conclusion—Oscar had been teased to the point of collapse by Evil Overlord Ruby—the snickers from everyone the next day had been annoying. Yang had just glared at both of them; Ruby heard that Yang had accepted Penny’s invitation to work off her big sister overprotective anger, which was why Penny had developed a strange glitch in her right eye and walked off-kilter the next morning.

So this was the solution. If Oscar’s dorm room at Atlas Academy wasn’t secure, and Team RWBY’s definitely wasn’t, then Amity Arena fit the bill nicely. It was fifty miles from Atlas, and aside from the aforementioned Atlesian infantry company, there was no one else around. Grimm couldn’t get to it because of where it floated, and they didn’t seem interested anyway. Penny couldn’t get to it because she was being repaired. And if Arthur Watts showed up, Ruby would blow his damn head off with Crescent Rose.

Oscar took off his backpack as well, and Ruby pulled out the controls to the arena. She selected the mountain/forest biome, and quickly they were surrounded by woods, a sparkling brook, and stony ridges. All were artificial, but it was real enough, though only cold metal and distant stars through the arena’s roof were visible. Luckily, the interior was kept at room temperature, though it was just cold enough that Ruby knew she and Oscar would need to cuddle in the coldest part of the Atlesian night. It was also dark, lit only by starlight and a few small emergency lights. But Amity had that covered as well: Ruby switched on a holographic campfire. Why Amity had that function she didn’t know; she wondered if she and Oscar were the only people to think of the place for a romantic getaway. It gave off no real heat, but it was cozy.

They set up the tent, and Oscar broke out a small dinner pack with a self-heating element. Both of them ate, making small talk. Ruby had been honest with Oscar, telling him exactly what she had planned—he was tired of being interrupted too, and agreed Amity was the best solution. They would have all the privacy on Remnant here.

Once the food was gone and the garbage disposed of, Ruby looked at her lover. “Well, here we are,” she smiled.

“Alone at last,” Oscar smiled back.

She snuggled close to him, illuminated by the firelight. He drew her lips to his; he was getting better at this sort of thing. Her lips were moist and trembling, and it wasn’t long before the world around them disappeared, as they lost each other in the kiss. Tongues sought out each other, and Ruby and Oscar found themselves breathing hard. His shaking fingers began to undo her corset strings, quickly joined by hers. They got the garment off, then Ruby reached up and pulled off her top. Her breasts bounced free, the nipples quickly hardening in the cool air, and from desire. “You like?” she whispered. "I skipped the bra."

“Gods, yes.” Oscar kissed both of the little pink nubs, causing her to shiver deliciously. Then they looked at each other and both laughed softly. “Race you,” Ruby said.

Both of them started pulling off their clothes. Boots, shirts, skirts, pants, and gloves were thrown on top of each other; Ruby left her stockings on, since she’d figured out that really turned Oscar on. He was as hard as Professor Goodwitch’s algebra class, and Ruby licked suddenly dry lips. Oh, how she liked that part of him. She wondered if it was possible to get addicted to a person. Or maybe she was just addicted to sex. Maybe it was a family thing…Yang certainly seemed to have enough ardor to leave Blake exhausted, and Ruby wondered if Summer Rose had tired even Taiyang Xiao Long out…

_Ew. Don’t think about Mom right now, weirdo,_ Ruby thought to herself. _Just think about how that’s going to feel in you in about, oh, ten seconds._ “Hey, Oscar,” she said.

“Yeah?” Oscar, for his part, was admiring a very nude and warm Ruby Rose. Standing there in the firelight, her only clothing the black stockings, was a sight he would never forget, as long or as short as he lived. 

“Think we can just skip the foreplay?”

He stepped up to her and kissed her. “Are you sure?”

Her fingers dipped to between her legs and came up wet. “What do _you_ think?”

“That looks like a yes.”

“Good.” Ruby spread her cape on the grassy floor of the arena—fake grass wasn’t exactly warm—and gently pushed Oscar towards it. He got the hint and lay down. He’d learned early on in the relationship that Ruby liked to be on top, and since it saved him a great deal of energy, which he needed to survive a night of sex with Ruby Rose, Oscar had no problem with it. Besides, it meant he could see and touch just about everything. Ruby straddled him, and rubbed herself against his erection. She rose up on her knees, grasped it, moved him to her opening, and began to sink down—

“Isn’t this a sight.”

Oscar’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open in complete shock. Ruby stopped, closed her eyes, and said “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Then she carefully pushed herself away, turned, and got to her feet. Then she fell again, also from shock.

She hadn’t recognized the voice; after all, they’d never actually met, and Jinn's projections were somehow different from the real article.. But there was no mistaking the alabaster skin, gray hair, and blood red eyes of Salem. This, however, was no Relic projection, or a hologram generated by Amity somehow. Salem was real, and she was standing there.

“Wh-what the he-hell—“ Ruby stammered. Oscar was too much in shock to say even that.

Salem smiled at them through pale lips. “Poor, poor Ruby Rose. You thought that by coming to Amity, you’d be alone with your paramour. Instead, you isolated yourself from all help. You’re all alone.” 

One thing Ruby could not be accused of was cowardice. Or common sense. She stood up, fists clenched. “What the hell do you want?” she demanded.

“Oh my.” Salem’s smile widened. “Are we cross, Ruby? I suppose I don’t blame you. As for what I want…” She extended a black-nailed finger towards Oscar. “Him. I want him.”

“Well, you can’t _have_ him!” Ruby snarled. “I’ll stop you, Salem! If you want a fight, you got it!”

“You know,” Salem said, “that threat _might_ be a little more intimidating if you had any clothes on.”

“Wait.” Oscar found his voice. He knew if this came to a fight, Ruby would die, and he would die himself before he had her blood on his hands. “Why do you want me, Salem? I’m not Ozpin.”

“No, but you’re his vessel.”

“So what are you going to do?” he asked.

“I don’t know quite yet,” Salem admitted. “Torture you until he comes out from hiding, I suppose.” She stepped forward, brushing Ruby aside, and lightly tapped on his forehead. “Hello? Are you in there, Ozpin? Come out, we need to taaalk!” She finished the last in a singsong voice. “After that, who knows? Kill you, perhaps, or keep you around. It does get rather boring in the castle without someone intelligent to talk to.” Salem looked down. Oscar had lost his erection, but she pursed her lips in admiration nonetheless. “Or maybe I could keep you around for…other purposes. After all, you’ve already been saddlebroke.”

Ruby did not like being ignored. Showing more rage than intelligence, she stepped up, grabbed Salem by one of her hair extensions, pulled the undead witch around, and slapped her in the face. Salem actually took a step back in surprise; no one had dared hit her in centuries. “Step off, bitch!” Ruby snapped. “Oscar’s _my_ lover!”

Salem rubbed her cheek, then laughed. “Oh gods! Ruby Rose, you really are quite something. You really think that you can defeat me, alone and naked?”

“I’m not alone.” She stepped close to Oscar. His hand found hers. “And I have Crescent Rose.”

Salem rolled her eyes. “Young love. Bleah.” She raised a hand, and a purple, crackling globe of pure annihilation formed in it. “And what makes you think I’ll let you live long enough to reach your weapon? Or that your weapon can do anything to me?” She smirked. “Didn’t that busybody Jinn tell you? _I can’t be killed._ ”

“Wait!” Oscar threw himself between Ruby and Salem. “Stop this!” He looked back to Ruby, tears in his eyes. “I can’t let you die, Ruby. I can’t. I won’t.” He turned back to Salem. “I’ll go with you. Just don’t hurt her.”

Salem hesitated, and blinked. For a moment, she saw Ozma standing there, the warrior, the only man she ever loved, not the farmhand Oscar. And it was not Ruby, but Salem herself, young, scared, and blonde. Wouldn’t Ozma had said the same to the Brother Gods, had he the choice? Was that what he had said when the Good Brother had sent him back?

The hesitation was just long enough for Ruby to shout, “I’ll fight you for him!”

“No, Ruby!” Oscar yelled.

“Not a fight-fight!” Ruby exclaimed. “A…uh…affection fight?”

“A _what?!”_ Salem and Oscar said simutaneously.

“A…” Ruby blushed, and hoped that somewhere, Summer Rose was _not_ watching this. “A sex fight!”

Salem held up her hands. “Ohhh no. That bastard Lie Ren pulled that trick on me a few weeks back, and about drove me insane. No sex contests. No way.”

Ruby had no idea what she was talking about, but plunged on. “That’s because you’re chicken, Salem!”

“What is this, a movie where that word makes me automatically accept a fight?” Salem scoffed. “Ruby Rose, I have had _legions_ of lovers. I’ve forgotten more about sex than you’ll ever know.”

Ruby was grasping at straws. “I’m…I’m better than oral than you are!”

Salem laughed. “Making Oscar come in ten seconds does _not_ mean you’re better than I am at oral. It means he needs to learn to control himself.”

“I’m sixteen,” Oscar said, in his own defense.

“How did you know about that?” Ruby asked.

Salem’s smirk returned. “I have my ways.”

“Pervert!” Ruby screamed.

“And?” Salem raised an eyebrow.

“Well—I bet you can’t do this!” Ruby took two steps forward, spun Oscar around, and kissed him, while forcing her tongue almost to his tonsils. Oscar was taken by surprise, but the feeling of the girl he loved kissing him was more than enough. Ruby pulled away and pointed: he was hard again. “See?”

Salem’s smirk had disappeared. “Very well,” she admitted. “That’s… _somewhat_ impressive. Oscar, would you mind facing me?” He did as he was told. Salem unsnapped the button where her dress met at the neck. It fell off her shoulders, falling to a black pool under her feet, and she stepped out of it. Oscar wouldn’t be a straight male if he hadn’t found her at the least gorgeous. Salem was tall, her breasts large but not overly so, her legs long and slender. Only the black, spidery veins down her arms, legs and face—and the fact that both nipples and her nether folds were a shade of dark gray—took away from her terrible beauty. To his shame, the sight made his member twitch. 

Ruby fumed. She stomped forward, spun in place, and stood next to Salem; she came up to about the witch’s shoulders. “Okay, Oscar. You like her, with her pasty-ass skin and those black vein things, or do you like me?” She ran her hands down her sides, licking her lips, shutting her eyes to silver slits, and giving a breathy moan. “I’ve got beautiful skin, Oscar, and it wants to be licked. All of it. By you.” She saw that was having a similar effect on Oscar; if anything, he was getting harder. He was also starting to whimper a bit. 

Salem folded her arms. “Well, look at you, Miss Smarty Pants. ‘Pasty-ass skin’ indeed. Well, just like your mother, I have to salute you for courage…if not anything else.” She reached forward and flicked one of Ruby’s breasts, which did not help Oscar’s situation any. “Are you still wearing a training bra?” She glanced sidelong at Oscar, and hoisted her own ample bosom. “Or perhaps he would like a _mature_ woman. You know…one who actually knows what she’s doing.”

“You mean an old slut!”

Salem’s fists clenched. “Why, you little shit. Do you think I, the Undead Queen of the Grimm, the woman that defied the gods, the Witch That Cannot Die, is going to stand here and take your lip?” 

Ruby knew that, on some level, she was probably about to die. She would never see her loved ones again, never again lead Team RWBY into battle. She was just going to become another victim of the eternal war, like her mother. But dammit, she was not going to back down and just let Salem take Oscar. “Then do something about it, bitch!” Ruby shoved Salem. “Put your magic away and let’s just go at it like…like real women!”

Oscar put his hands out in front of him. He was pretty sure that, even if she didn’t use her magic, Salem would still be able to kill Ruby. Worse, the sight of two women fighting naked was going to finish _him_ off. “Ladies, stop! Please!” His mind searched frantically for an answer, wished Ozpin would hurry up and help him, and thought he had an idea. “You could…y’know… _both_ have me?”

Salem was ready to rend Ruby, her fingernails having taken on a distinctively Grimm form, but she stopped and looked at him. “Are you crazy? Share? With this little tart?”

Ruby was about to go for Salem’s eyes, but she turned to. “You want me to share with this big…” Tart didn’t really sound like much of an insult. Then Ruby decided that, if she was going to die tonight, she was going to let Salem have it with the grandmother of all insults, the one shared between females that could only end in blood. “You want me to share with this _cunt?”_

Salem’s eyes blazed. “Okay, that’s it.” She reached out a hand, and Ruby suddenly froze. Salem shook her head, then slowly turned Ruby in place without touching her.

Oscar stepped back in horror. “What did you do?”

“To this little bitch? Just a simple hold person spell.” Salem smacked Ruby in the back of the young huntress’ head; Ruby did not so much as wince. “Just for calling me that…that word, she can by the gods watch.”

“Watch what?” Oscar wanted to know, though he had a bad feeling he already knew.

“Have sex with you, boy.” Salem laughed, a high, pealing laugh that echoed off the walls of Amity Arena. “That wasn’t my original intention, but the two of you have managed to light my fires. And it’s been a _very_ long time since I’ve screwed one of Ozma’s reincarnations.” She waved a hand at him, and Oscar fell back onto Ruby’s cape. 

“I won’t do it—“ Oscar began.

“Oh, shut up.” Salem waved a hand, and Oscar suddenly could not speak. “I don’t need to hear your mouth. You can use that tongue for other things.” Much as Ruby had, she straddled him. Salem grinned hungrily down at him. “Sixteen? A little younger than most my conquests, but that just makes it sweeter. At least you’re not a virgin, so you know where to put this.” She grabbed his penis, but to Salem’s surprise, Oscar had gone soft. She checked herself; she _had_ just frozen his girlfriend and silenced him. That was a bit intimidating. But Salem wasn’t kidding when she had said she was far more experienced than anyone in Remnant, so with her hands and thighs, she quickly got Oscar hard again. “Prepare for bliss,” she told him, made a very lewd gesture with her tongue, and pushed the former farmhand inside of her. “I may look cold, Oscar Pine, but I can assure you, the inside is very warm.” She sank down atop him, and it sent a wonderful shudder through her body. “Oh. Oh yes. That is very nice, isn’t it?”

Salem tried a few thrusts, getting the feel for Oscar, but to her surprise, he couldn’t stay hard. “What the…” She pulled him out, used her fingers again, and pushed him back into her, but it was nothing doing. He was losing his erection. “What’s wrong with you?”

“He doesn’t love you.”

Salem stopped. She looked down at Oscar. His face had become more placid, his trembling with fear had subsided, and the eyes that stared back were a more solid green, devoid of the flecks of yellow. “I silenced you.”

“Yes, a simple spell. One easily countered.” It was Oscar’s voice, but deeper and more measured.

Salem’s lips peeled back in hate. “Ozpin. _There_ you are.”

“Yes. I had decided to remain silent, but your actions forced me to come back. It took a little while, but here I am, Salem. Now, what are you doing?”

“What’s it look like? I’m screwing this teenager’s brains out in front of his only lover.” She nodded at him. “Oh yes, Ozpin. It’s cruelty, but I think they deserve some cruelty, do they not? After what they’ve done, at Haven and with the Relic?”

“Oh, I’m not denying it’s cruelty,” Ozpin answered. “But if you’re going to screw poor Oscar’s brains out, he’s going to have to be hard for that.”

“No problem,” Salem smiled. “Let go of whatever calm spell you used and I’ll have him coming in no time.”

“He’s not going to get erect, Salem. He doesn’t love you.”

“Ha!” Salem snapped. “Like sex needs love. There’s no love in Mantle’s red light district, is there?”

“So you’re saying that you’re no better than a whore?” Oscar—Ozpin—shook his head. “You’re better than that, Salem. Even as twisted and evil as you are, you’re better than that.”

Salem glared at him, infuriated. She stood, flicked her fingers. Suddenly Oscar was more erect than he’d ever been in his life. An involuntary gasp escaped his lips, and Salem snorted. “Even _you_ want me, Ozpin.”

“Of that I don’t deny,” Ozpin puffed. Oscar’s body wasn’t going to last much longer, but he was not about to give Salem that victory—even if his host was going to have Remnant’s worst case of blue balls ever. “And if I was back in my old body—the one your minion murdered at Beacon—I would be happy to while away a few hours making love to you, Salem. But I won’t subject poor Oscar to this.”

“Really?” Salem bent down, ran a fingernail over Oscar’s stomach. The body shook. “I think one more of those, and neither one of you is going to have much choice.”

“And you’ll have won,” Ozpin admitted. “But you’ll have to admit to yourself that you had to use magic to do it. You'll have cheated, Salem.”

“I don’t care!”

“Yes, you do. Because if you cheat…then you’ve practically admitted to Ruby Rose that _she’s_ won.”

Salem turned to look at Ruby. Her expression of shock had not changed; she was still frozen, unable to move a single muscle. Salem knew she was still conscious, still aware of what was happening. Salem had wanted it that way. 

Then she saw a single tear well up and drift downwards from Ruby’s eye.

Salem was silent for a long moment, then sighed. “Damn you, Ozpin.”

“What exactly was your endgame here, Salem?” he asked. “Did you intend to make Oscar your toyboy to punish Ruby? Did you intend to kill him? I would just reincarnate somewhere else; you know that. And if you were going to torture him until I returned, what did you intend to do with me?”

Salem did not move. “Just shut up.” She sighed again. “You win, you old bastard.” 

“Was that a pang of conscience, Salem? Deep down, would you hate yourself for doing to Oscar and Ruby what the Brothers did to you and me—to Ozma?”

“Don’t push it, Ozpin.” Salem magically clad herself again in her cloak. Every fiber of her being wanted to destroy both Oscar and Ruby, but it would do no good. There would be another reincarnation, and another silver-eyed warrior. 

And besides, she already hated herself.

She stepped forward to look deep into those silver eyes of Ruby’s. “You’ve got some guts, Ruby Rose. So did your mother. In honor of that courage, you’re not going to remember a thing about this. You won’t remember me. You’re going to make love to that young man over there, he’s going to bring you to several orgasms over the course of the night, and you’ll probably even get him off more than once. Enjoy it while it lasts, Ruby, because if there’s one thing I know, it’s that _nothing_ lasts forever. Except me.” She turned to Oscar/Ozpin. “I assume you’ll do the honors with his memory.”

“I will, though I take no pleasure from it.”

“Oh, shove it up your reincarnated ass, Ozpin. I never did like that self-righteous bullshit of yours.” Salem gave him the finger, and was gone in a cloud of purple smoke.

Ozpin let out a long sigh, and then retreated into the recesses of Oscar’s mind. 

Ruby blinked and was suddenly unfrozen. “Oscar? What…” Her eyes widened at his erection. “Holy crap!”

“Uh, Ruby…” Oscar sounded pained. “I think we’d better do something about this…”

“You’re damn right!” Ruby skipped over and knelt. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re an inch longer!”

“Ruby!”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming…” She winked at him. “Hopefully, anyway. Though I think this time, you’re going first.”

Deep within Oscar’s mind, Ozpin smiled as he shut himself away, giving the young lovers their privacy.

Back at the Evernight Castle, Salem’s lair, Emerald was walking down the hall when Salem suddenly appeared before her in a poof of purple smoke. The thief screamed and fell. “Holy hell! Mistress Salem! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Don’t tempt me.” Salem scowled. “Emerald, down in my wine cellar there is a very old, very large bottle of whiskey. I want you to get it. I want you to bring it to my throne room. Then I want you and I to get very, very, _very_ drunk. I want to get so damn drunk that we’ll black out and wonder why in the hell we wake up naked next to each other with the empty bottle, two smoking guns, three dead Grimm, and a vat of sour cream. I want to get so drunk that I create a Grimm that’s part man and part horse. I want to get—“

“You want to get shit-faced,” Emerald supplied.

Salem put a hand on Emerald’s shoulder. “Sometimes I think you’re the only one who understands.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for the sudden mood whiplash there. I guess I do like writing Salem as either a harried woman surrounded by idiots, or as a tragic figure, or both. But love is always going to win.


	41. Opposites Attract

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marrow Amin, the rookie of Ace Ops, once more got the short straw. He's got to inspect Jacques Schnee's office, despite there being nothing there, including Jacques Schnee. It's boring, dumb duty, but that's what rookies get. And then Robyn Hill arrives, and he's got to take care of her until the Atlesian Council meeting begins.
> 
> Or is she going to take care of Marrow?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, the long awaited Marrow Amin story, except it isn't him and May Zedong. I had this whole idea planned about how Marrow and May were secret lovers, and...and then I read that May Zedong, canonically, is dead. She was killed at Beacon with the rest of Team BRNZ.
> 
> Well, that sucks, so May got swapped out for Robyn. And I think it actually works better. At least I hope it does. Sorry about the long intro, but we don't really know much about either Marrow or Robyn, so I had to invent some backstory for them. After all, it's not just smut.

Marrow Amin was in a bad mood.

Just being in Schnee Manor was bad enough, since he hated the place; he would’ve hated it even if he wasn’t a Faunus. The Schnees were snooty jerks, and their wait staff seemed to have adopted their employers’ attitudes. He’d asked directions from one kind of cute waitress, and she had walked off. She hadn’t even said a word. Weiss Schnee seemed to be at least trying to not to be a jerk, at least, but he still didn’t think highly of her.

Marrow’s job was to secure Schnee Manor for the upcoming arrival of General Ironwood, Winter Schnee, and Robyn Hill, who would meet with the Atlas Council regarding Ironwood’s actions—the embargo, the ever-increasing Grimm attacks, Mantle’s issues, and his “secret project,” which Marrow knew to be converting Amity Arena to a giant telecommunications tower. _I ought to know about it,_ he grumped, _I’ve been going out there every damn day, it feels like._

Marrow’s other job, as he liked to say, was SLJO: Shitty Little Jobs Officer. He supposed that was to be expected: he was the rookie of Ace Operatives, Ironwood’s elite team of Huntsmen and Huntresses. Rookies drew all the crappy jobs, they got the last cup of coffee after it had gotten cold, and they were the butt of the jokes. Marrow had worked hard to get into Ace Ops, and he knew most of the ribbing was good natured. He liked his teammates…most of them. Clover Ebi was a good man to work for, a solid leader who never asked his team to do something he wouldn’t do. Vine Zeki was as good as they came; he’d gone out of his way to welcome Marrow to the team. Elm Ederne could be gruff, and she wasn’t all that personable, but they’d warmed up to each other. Harriet Bree was still the only one he had trouble getting along with: she never hesitated to remind him he was the newbie, and loved to give him hell. Still, even her ribs had gotten less vindictive.

But he _still_ got the shit jobs. Right now, he was inspecting Jacques Schnee’s study, despite there being no one there. And there wasn’t going to be anyone there. Even the man himself, who Marrow would give a year’s pay to punch in the mouth, was out and wasn’t going to be around anytime soon. Harriet might as well have ordered him to inspect the manor’s toilets, and Marrow wondered if that was next. 

Marrow sighed. There was no point in going sterile over it, as his father used to say. Dutifully, he inspected the study, looking under the desk, the table and a few random books to make sure no one had planted a bomb in there or something. Even Faunus who had never been with the now-defunct White Fang would love to blow up Jacques Schnee. _Hell,_ Marrow thought ruefully, _*I* would like to blow up Jacques Schnee. Probably half of Atlas would like to blow up Jacques Schnee, up to and including his daughters, too._

The door opened, and Marrow, who had been thumbing through the Schnee book collection out of boredom, turned. He gave a little jump of surprise: it was Robyn Hill. “Oh!” she exclaimed. She’d been surprised too, apparently. Then her expression soured. “I see Ace Ops is on the job.”

“That’s us,” he replied. There was no love lost between Ace Ops and Robyn’s group, the Happy Huntresses. Ace Ops defended the lofty heights of Atlas, whereas the Happy Huntresses were Mantle’s defenders. Marrow was from Mantle, and while he appreciated the Huntresses’ help in defending their hometown, he thought they were sanctimonious, arrogant, self-important, and basically assholes. “Doing the impossible for the ungrateful.”

Robyn chuckled sardonically and closed the door. “That’s good, Wags.” She looked around while he glared at her; Robyn had the very annoying habit of giving everyone nicknames. “I see Jacques does all right for himself.” She snorted at the painting behind the desk. “I’ve been told to wait here until someone comes to get me. I guess you’re supposed to make sure I don’t rob the place.”

Marrow took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and counted to five. _Dammit, Harriet._ So that was the real reason he was “inspecting” Jacques Schnee’s study—he was supposed to keep an eye on Robyn Hill, too. Since Ace Ops was pretty much united in their low opinion of the self-styled Defender of Mantle, he’d gotten stuck with _another_ crappy job. If she wasn’t so fast, he’d plant a size twelve up Harriet’s tight ass. He'd noticed; it was impossible not to, the way she liked to sashay around.

“How long am I supposed to wait?” Robyn was asking.

“Damn if I know,” Marrow shot back. “I didn’t even know you were going to be here.”

Robyn smiled. “Stuck the noob with the shit job, huh?”

“Thanks for the reminder.” He went down the short steps from the desk to the main part of the study. She continued to smirk at him. They were about the same height, he noticed; either Robyn was a rather tall woman, or she had some lifts in her boots. 

“Oh well,” Robyn sighed. “Guess we’d better make the best of it.” She sat down in one of the leather chairs. “Figures. This is nice. I can see why you don’t want to be here.” 

Not knowing what else to do, Marrow sat as well. He had to be careful not to sit on his tail. “I don’t like the bastard any more than you do.”

“I’m not surprised. You’re a Faunus.” Robyn put her boots up on the small coffee table. “Why do you work for Ace Ops? Atlas doesn’t like Faunus, and you’re defending them.”

He knew he shouldn’t get drawn into a conversation with Robyn. She was a politician, and would probably twist his words right back on him. And being a politician, she wasn’t going to shut up, either. Still, her words stung him. “Because Ace Ops is the elite. The best of the best.” He put his boots up on the table too, next to hers, though they faced each other. “Maybe I can show the people of Atlas that Faunus are just as good as humans.”

She nodded. “A noble idea. I doubt it’ll work, but it’s a noble idea.” She motioned around the room. “Not that these people will ever accept you.”

“I don’t work for the Schnees.”

“But you work for Ironwood, who does what the Council wants. And now that Jacques screwed me out of the Council seat, your commander works for him.”

Marrow fought down the urge to get into an argument. He wasn’t going to win it. He remembered another saying of his father’s: political arguments were like wrestling a pig—you might win, but you will get dirty. “Look. I’m here to guard you, or keep an eye on you, or escort you, or whatever. Not to talk politics. Okay?”

He had said it with such vehemence that Robyn looked a little shocked. “All right.” The problem was, the silence now was even more uncomfortable than the argument. Finally, Robyn, who had been idly playing with her hair, asked him, “So. You’re from Mantle?”

“Yeah.” 

“Parents from there?”

“Dad died a few years ago. Mom moved to Menagerie. I graduated from Atlas Academy a year ago. Want to know anything else?” he snapped.

“Whoa, easy, Wags. Just trying to make conversation here.” Robyn held up her hands defensively. 

He fought down a growl. He needed to be diplomatic here. Pissing off Robyn Hill would not help the delicate situation they were all in, and it might get Ace Ops in trouble. That he didn’t need. “Sorry,” he apologized.

“Married?” she asked. At his look, she again held up her hands. “Again, just trying to make conversation.”

“No. And I don’t have a girlfriend, either.” _Which sucks,_ Marrow added to himself. He’d had one at Atlas, but she’d dumped him in their senior year and left with some moron with rock-solid abs from Vacuo. Marrow could hear his mother now: _that’s what you get for dating human girls! Find yourself a nice Faunus girl, settle down, and bring me some grandbabies!_ “Why do you have to get so damn personal?”

Robyn shrugged. “We can’t talk politics, you’re not going to tell me anything that compromises Ironwood’s precious secrecy, so I don’t have anything else to talk about but personal stuff.” She smiled at him. He had to admit to himself she had kind of a cute smile. “But to be fair, here’s me. I’m actually from Atlas. Weird, right? Dad owned a business in Mantle, and I saw how people from Atlas treated the people down there, and…” She chuckled. “Okay, no politics. My parents passed away too—Grimm attack.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Marrow said sincerely. His father had died of natural causes, but there weren’t too many families in Mantle who hadn’t lost someone to the Grimm. 

“Thanks. I went to Atlas Academy too, and that’s where I recruited the Happy Huntresses. And I’m currently single myself.”

“You like guys?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Marrow instantly regretted them. They were insulting.

Robyn didn’t take it that way; in fact, she laughed. “Yeah, I like guys. Oh, I’ve heard the rumors—that the Happy Huntresses are my happy harem, and we all have these lesbian orgies in the snow.” Marrow shifted uncomfortably; that was a mental image he did _not_ need right now. “Which isn’t even accurate—May’s trans, by the way—but no. We all have our own love lifes, separate from each other.” She motioned at him. “They say the same thing about Ace Ops, too. Fiona’s convinced that you and Vine are gay for each other.”

“Me and Vine?” Marrow asked incredulously. He’d heard a rumor about him and Clover, but that was a new one. It was so absurd that he laughed as well. 

“Don’t pay no attention to it. Fiona ships everybody. She’s convinced that Yang Xiao Long, that blonde chick out of Team RWBY, and their Faunus girl, Blake Belladonna—Fiona’s convinced they’re thumping the mattress.”

“They are.”

Robyn raised an eyebrow. “No shit? I _thought_ they were making googly eyes at each other the other night.”

“Yeah. I heard them one night on patrol.”

“Ah. I bet Yang’s the screamer.”

He grinned. “Yep. Curses a lot, too.” 

“Yeah, me too—er, I mean…” Robyn stopped herself, and blushed. “Whoops. You don’t need to know that.”

Marrow looked away, finding something really interesting about the ceiling, which was carved oak. They’d dropped their guard there. Suddenly it wasn’t Robyn Hill, politician and Happy Huntress, and Marrow Amin, Ace Ops Huntsman. They had gotten a bit too intimate. “Sorry,” he said, automatically.

“It’s okay.”

The silence came between them again, and Marrow and Robyn did everything to not look at each other, which meant that they were still looking at each other, just in side glances. _Damn,_ Marrow thought, _she is kind of cute, in a sort of…hell, I don’t know._ Robyn had a pleasant face, though she wasn’t really beautiful. Her skin had been tanned by working out on the cold tundra for so long, and her hair was bleached almost white. He surreptitiously looked her up and down. Robyn had taken off her longcoat, but the red tunic and skirt still hid whatever figure she had. He wondered if she had nice legs; the thick pants hid that, too.

_Crap,_ Marrow thought to himself. His brain was starting to mentally strip Robyn, and her words had already brought up memories of the night he’d heard Yang Xiao Long screaming for Blake Belladonna to do things that he didn’t want to repeat in mixed company. It had made it tough to sit with them at the morning briefing. Despite himself, Marrow felt blood going places it _really_ shouldn’t be going. He crossed his legs to hide it, but then his tail started wagging. _Oh, godsdammit._

Robyn had been doing her own quiet inspection. Marrow had that sort of pouty face that pushed certain buttons, because now she wanted to hug him and take care of him. And now that his tail was wagging, it pushed the button marked _I Love Cute Things_ in Robyn Hill’s mind, and she found herself wondering what Marrow looked like with that Ace Ops uniform off. She would never admit it, not under torture in Atlas’ deepest, coldest dungeon, but she liked guys in uniform too. 

Robyn stood, walked to the door of the study…and locked it.

Marrow gulped audibly. He looked at her. She looked back, a slight smile on her lips. “What do you say, Wags?” Robyn said huskily. "Want to have a quickie?"

“Uh…” To say he’d been caught by surprise was to say that the attack on Beacon was a mild setback. “But I…didn’t think you liked me.”

She stepped closer and unclasped her belt. It fell to the floor behind her. “I like you enough. I think you like me enough, too.”

Marrow grabbed his tail, as now it was wagging even harder. That wasn’t the only thing that was harder. _Oh, the hell with it,_ he thought. He hadn’t been with anyone that wasn’t on a Scroll since his girlfriend had dumped him anyway. He jumped to his feet, crossed the three steps between them, and kissed her, hard.

It was sudden, but that was what made it more fun. Raw desire surged in both of them, and Marrow’s hands were moving fast, helping her pull the tunic and skirt off, then the undershirt, then seizing a double handful of her rear underneath the pants. Robyn wasn’t too far behind, but she wasn’t bothering with his shirt; her fingers were going for the prize. His belt landed on hers, and Marrow’s eyes widened as she pulled both uniform pants and issue underwear down around his ankles, freeing his now very hard member. 

“Two can play that game,” he murmured through the kisses. Her breasts were now squished against his chest. The bra had a rear clasp, but Marrow had nimble fingers. It fell away, and he pulled it out from between them, then looked down. “Whoa.” His college girlfriend had been a little flat; Robyn did not have that problem. The tunic and jacket had done a great job in disguising them.

“You like girls with big boobs?” she murmured to him.

“You like Faunus guys?”

“I don’t know,” she said. He jumped as her hands got a handful of _his_ rear end. “Never been with one.” 

“We're gonna change that.”

She nibbled at his lips playfully. “You going to talk or help me get these pants off?”

“Yes’m.” He knelt and almost fell—his pants were still around his knees—but with a little help from her, he slid the pants off. In contrast to the rather drab colors she usually wore, her panties were bright red. Calling them panties was generous: the front barely covered the thin stripe of blonde hair, and the back plunged between her cheeks. “Whoa,” Marrow said again.

“Surprise.” Robyn pulled the thong down—she’d lost her socks and boots at some point; he didn’t remember where, nor did he care—and stepped out of them, now completely nude. He got back to his feet, hitching his pants up a little higher. He supposed he should get those off at some point, but then got distracted: Robyn might not be as attractive as some other women, but she had rather beautiful, purplish eyes. “You’ve got really pretty eyes,” he gushed.

Robyn blushed again. “So do you.” She kissed him for courage. Inwardly, Robyn wondered just what the hell she was doing, but dismissed it the same way Marrow had: it had been awhile for her, too. There was never any time. In fact, they didn’t have much time now. “Marrow, we need to hurry if we’re going to do this.”

“It’s crazy,” he said.

“I know!” Robyn laughed. Then she pointed to Jacques Schnee’s desk. “You want to really mess with that slimy old bastard?”

“Do I!” Marrow thought about gallantly picking her up and carrying her, but she brushed past him. He figured he must look like an idiot, holding his pants up while one part of him throbbed and one part of him wagged, following her towards the desk. He was more than happy to note that Robyn had a very well-formed butt. 

Robyn hopped up onto the desk, spreading her legs. “Let’s get to work here, and—“ Her eyes went wide as Marrow suddenly dived in, putting his face in her crotch and indeed going to work. Her breath caught in her throat, and, as his tongue followed the curve of her folds over and over, Robyn thought that Marrow’s college girlfriend had been a damned fool to let this one get away. She didn’t know if Faunus guys had longer tongues than humans, but Marrow certainly seemed to have one, and he knew how to use it. “Oh _gods,”_ she moaned. Her fingers found his man bun and quickly unraveled it. “I’m…not…going to…last,” she begged. “Gods…I can’t…” Her hands reached down and grabbed the shoulders of his uniform, pulling him off of her. Marrow blinked. Robyn’s eyes were wild, her hair disheveled. “Get that off,” she ordered, grasping at his shirt. Marrow compiled, though he didn’t take it completely off; Robyn didn’t let him. She ran her fingers over his chest. “Gods, you’re hot!”

“Well, thanks.” Marrow wouldn’t be sentient if he didn’t feel some pride at that.

Suddenly she grabbed him and pushed his head between her breasts. “Now put it in, Marrow!” she shouted. “Right now!”

“Omfkay, omfkay!” He got her off of him by main force, positioned himself, and thrust in. Robyn’s mouth dropped open and she groaned, gripping him with her hands around his head, her thighs around his waist, and her inner walls against something else. 

Marrow glanced at the clock, knew that they didn’t have much time, so began going for all he was worth. Her hands let go of his head and grabbed for his tail. She couldn’t quite reach, so she settled for raking her nails down his back. “Ah, Marrow,” she cried. “Oh gods! Yeah, do it! Fuck me! Fuck me _hard!_ Fuck me like it's Election Night!” Robyn was panting, her chest heaving, and she began screaming, describing what they were doing in vulgar detail, while implying that he was not having sex with her hard enough, that his mother was a female canine (technically, that was true), that his parents weren’t married, and that a certain part of her anatomy—which she referred to with unprintable terms—was going to explode. It was such that he was nearly thrown off his rhythm. _Holy crap!_ Marrow thought. _She’s an animal!_

And because this sort of thing happens a lot in these stories, and because Jacques Schnee had soundproofed his study, thus ensuring that no other parts of Schnee Manor knew that Robyn Hill was a screamer, there was a knock on the door.

Robyn grabbed Marrow by the ears, eyes blazing and crazed. “Don’t you dare answer that, you motherfucker!”

“No intention to!” Marrow's voice was about two octaves higher than normal.

“Good boy!” she shouted, which was a little racist—not that he cared at this point. “Ah, gods, Marrow! I’m gonna come…so close…yeah, gonna…”

The knocking grew in intensity. The room was soundproofed, but the door was not, and even over Robyn’s amorous cries, Marrow heard Elm Ederne’s voice. “Marrow! I know you’re in there! Why is the door locked? Answer me! We’ve got orders, you idiot!”

_Oh shit!_ Marrow thought in terror. Elm was the last person he needed right now. Harriet could scream until she got hoarse, Clover would do the sensible thing and just call him on his Scroll, and Vine probably would just give up and figure Marrow had already left. None of them were capable of simply smashing down the door. Elm was. The fact that it was Jacques Schnee’s door might not stop her, and since Elm tended to not know her own strength, she might even rip the door off its hinges without meaning to. 

“Marrow!” Elm shouted.

“ _Marrow!”_ Robyn screamed, and he felt her tighten up, her fingers gripping his shoulders now. “ _Oh gods, I’m com—“_

Torn between duty to his team, pleasure in bringing Robyn to a Remnant-shattering orgasm, and the real possibility of Elm breaking down the door, Marrow used his final option. He abruptly pulled out of Robyn—who barely noticed, as her eyes rolled back in her head—pointed at her, and yelled _“STAY!”_

Robyn froze. Marrow stepped back, got his breath, hitched up his pants, tried not to get his erection caught in the zipper, rebuttoned his tunic, and slicked his hair back. The bun had unraveled and he didn’t have time to get his scarf or belt back on, but he was thankful that he hadn’t stripped down naked too. “Hold on, dammit!” he yelled at the door, which bowed in dangerously. Marrow ran to the door, unlocked it, and cracked it open. “Elm, what?”

“Took you long enough.” Elm stared down at him. “Why do you have the door locked?”

“I, uh…” Marrow tried what he hoped was a sly grin. “I’m helping myself to some of Jacques Schnee’s booze. Don’t worry, not getting drunk…just a nice buzz on. Gonna need it tonight, amirite?”

Elm raised an eyebrow. “Marrow, you don’t drink.”

_Shit._ “Okay, okay. I was trying to break into Jacques Schnee’s desk. We know he’s dirty, right? So I’m trying to get some evidence.”

The eyebrow went up a bit higher. “Is that why you’re all sweaty, and your belt, _and_ scarf, are gone?”

_Double shit._ “Well, it’s hot in there, and—“

Elm shook her head slowly. “Who is it, Marrow?” She pointed at his pants. “I may have been born at night, and I may have a tough time finding a guy because I’m afraid of crushing him, but I wasn’t born _last_ night, and I’m not blind. Who are you banging in there?” She put a huge hand on the door. “Tell me or I find out for myself.”

Marrow looked down. “Robyn Hill.”

“No fucking way.” She pushed on the door, and Marrow threw his full body weight against it to hold it shut.

“Yes, fucking way!” he insisted. “Elm, please, just…tell Clover I’ll be right wherever he needs me to be in a few.”

Elm saw through the open sliver of doorway Robin’s shirt, pants, and red underwear. “Well, I’ll be.” She grinned at him. “She’s being kind of quiet. Is she the strong, silent type or—“ Her hands went to her mouth. “Marrow! You didn’t use your _Semblance_ —“

“I had to because you were breaking down the freaking door!”

“Oh.” Elm looked embarrassed. “Sorry. Okay, okay…” The radio bud in her ear crackled, and Marrow heard Clover’s voice. Elm touched it. “Clover, this is Elm. Yeah, I found Marrow. He’s in the can. Yeah, he’s not feeling too good; I think it was that Vacuo takeout we had for lunch. I’ll take over his patrol until he feels better, okay? Yeah, roger that. I’ll tell him to switch back on as soon as he stops…well, you know. Elm out.” She winked at him. 

“I owe you one, big girl.” It was Ace Ops’ nickname for Elm.

“Have fun, rook.” With a gentleness he didn’t know she had, Elm closed the door.

“Okay…” Marrow turned back to Robyn. It was certainly a sight—she was spreadeagled on Jacques Schnee’s wide desk, her feet curled onto the sides for purchase, her arms frozen in midair, her mouth open in a scream. If Elm had opened the door any wider, there would have been very little of Robyn Hill she would not have seen, including vaginally. Marrow gave a nod, pulled off his boots, pants, shorts, and shirt, and ran over naked. Talking to Elm had dimmed his ardor some, but it came back with a vengeance. He leaned forward and kissed her chin gently. “Sorry, Robyn,” he whispered, pushed back into her, and dropped his Semblance.

“— _ing!”_ Robyn gasped, trembling, and he held her tight. “ _Ah, Marrow, don’t stop! Please don’t stop!”_ _Now that’s ironic,_ Marrow thought, and resumed his thrusting. 

Willow Schnee swirled the wine in its glass as she watched Marrow tense up, give one final push, and throw his head back. She raised an eyebrow. “So wolf Faunus _do_ howl at the moon,” she murmured, and took a drink. She watched them embrace each other, coming down from the sexual high, and sniffed a laugh. There had been a time when Jacques and her had done things like that. A long time ago. 

Willow switched off the camera to the study, and made sure it had downloaded to her Scroll. Like everything else the cameras recorded at Schnee Manor, she saved it—Willow would do anything to protect her son and daughters, even blackmail. 

Then she nearly dropped her wineglass. It wasn’t her Scroll in her hands. It was Weiss’. Which meant Weiss had her Scroll, and—

“Well, shit,” Willow sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, this is the prequel to "Family Affair," an earlier chapter in this fic. 
> 
> I'm not sure if Marrow's Semblance actually stops a person in time, or just freezes them in place, leaving them aware of what's going on around them. I went with the former because it's funnier. And Elm is best wing-girl.


	42. Love Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taiyang Xiao Long is nervous; after all, he'd never meant for this online dating thing to go this far. But thanks to the help of his loving daughters, he's got a match, and now he's going to meet her for dinner. 
> 
> And he's going to find out just who this iBurn is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> George Fairbun reminded me of RWBY Chibi Season 3, Episode 2 ("Evil Interview") where Tai ends up getting an online date match with Cinder Fall, and asked what the natural conclusion of the Tinder ship would be. Well, here you go.
> 
> This is actually a long chapter! I had to set up the date, then go through the date. Tai and Cinder are hard to write together, but I think (hope!) I managed.

In the days before the fall of Beacon, it was a halcyon time when Grimm were somewhat under control, Team RWBY was innocent and naïve (except for Blake), and beloved characters were not piles of ash. However, it was not entirely days without strife and pain. 

Taiyang Xiao Long was lonely.

After all, he had a good reason to be. His first wife, Raven Branwen, had left him with an infant Yang Xiao Long. Luckily for Tai, Summer Rose was there to help. One thing led to another, and he and Summer got married; seven months later (because they couldn’t wait), Ruby Rose came along. And then Summer disappeared. 

Tai had the best of luck with women…and the worst.

Hopefully, that would change. Tai adjusted his tai-dyed tie and looked in Zippy’s mirror—Zippy being the somewhat battered Xiao Long-Rose family car. Then he looked at his hands. Those hands could snap a Grimm’s neck like a twig, but they were shaking like a leaf. “I can’t do this,” he said.

“Sure you can,” Qrow growled. He was driving. “C’mon, Tai. You got my sister to fall in love with you, and Raven hates everyone.”

“And she left,” Tai reminded him.

“And that was on her, not you. And Summer fell in love with you too.” He nudged Tai. “C’mon, man. You pull in the chicks. Just give them that easy grin and flex those muscles, and they’ll be drooling.”

“Can’t really flex in this shirt, Qrow,” Tai sighed. It was a very nice dress shirt, and while Tai had kept himself in superb shape, cutting wood at his cabin at Patch, it wasn’t like women could see through it.

“Which is why I told you to post a shirtless selfie, but noooo…” Qrow carefully parked Zippy. 

“Is that what worked for you?”

Qrow grinned at his brother-in-law. “Hell yeah. Girls were _all_ over my jock, they see that selfie.”

“Yeah, right,” Tai needled him. “What girl would be impressed with _your_ unshaven ass?”

Winter Schnee sneezed loudly, nearly turning over her teacup. Weiss jumped, startled. “Sister? Are you all right?”

“Certainly,” Winter replied, smoothing her tunic. “Not sure what brought that on.”

“I’ll have you know my ass is shaved!” Qrow said. “Wait, that came out wrong.”

Tai laughed, but one look at the restaurant entrance and the humor evaporated like ice in the Vacuo Desert. It was a rather fancy, exclusive place. “This was a bad idea. We should go.”

Qrow shook his head. “Nope.” He punched Tai in the shoulder. “Tai, show some balls. It’s just a date. You meet, talk, have some drinks, a nice dinner, and maybe, if you get lucky, some nookie. No biggie. It’s not like you’re going to marry this chick.”

“I don’t know about the nookie part.” Tai ran the fingers of one hand over the other. “After Summer, it’s…it doesn’t seem right.”

Qrow nodded. “I get it. But Tai, Short Stack wouldn’t want you to be celibate for the rest of your life. You have to move on, my friend—she’d want that.” He opened the door. “Now let’s go, Tai. I’ll be your wingman.”

“Yeah.” Tai said a silent prayer for Summer to forgive him, then got out of the car as well.

“This is a bad idea. We should go.”

Emerald Sustrai shook her head slowly. “Cinder, no.”

Cinder Fall glared at her. “Don’t give me orders!” Her raised voice caused heads to turn in the restaurant, and she lowered her voice. “Don’t give me orders, Emerald.”

“Cinder, you told me to make you stay in that seat if I had to shoot you in the leg. Now c’mon—have a breadstick.” By way of demonstration, Emerald picked one up and chewed on it.

“No, I’ll get crumbs on my dress…or worse, _down_ my dress.” Cinder was dressed in her favorite outfit: the red cheongsam-like dress with gold trim. It left her shoulders alluringly bare, and showed just enough cleavage to entice. The dress ended well above her knees, showing off her perfect legs. She’d turned heads in the restaurant just by walking in. She fidgeted. “Why am I so damn nervous?”

“I dunno,” Emerald murmured around the breadstick. “It’s just a date. You’re going to meet this guy, talk, have some drinks and a good meal, and if you get lucky, you’ll get laid.” Cinder rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Cinder,” the former thief said. “You know that’s a possibility. That’s why you signed up on MatchRemnant in the first place.” She pointed the breadstick at her. “And Cinder, if you don’t mind me saying…you could use a one-night stand or two. You’re all pent up. You set Mercury on fire the other day just because he wanted to ask if he could have some lien.”

“He demanded a raise. Bastard deserved it,” Cinder snarled.

“And that’s just what I mean. You need to _relax!_ ” Emerald finished the breadstick and motioned for Cinder’s Scroll. “Let’s look at this guy again—this ‘LoveDaddy’ character.” Cinder sighed and pushed her Scroll across to Emerald, who opened it and brought up the dating site profile. There was no name: the site’s users were kept anonymous unless they wanted to unlock that function. LoveDaddy was—according to his profile—dangerous but dependable, an edgy thrillseeker yet responsible, a brooding bad boy with a wholesome sense of humor. Emerald thought it was probably bullshit, but it was Cinder looking for a date online, not her.

She then looked at Cinder’s profile—or as she was known on MatchRemnant, iBurn. Cinder was looking to meet new people, especially Maidens and silver-eyed brats. There was a lot of mention of fire. Cinder admitted she was evil (she had even included an evil laugh), and that a person must love Grimm. Emerald smothered a sigh; she didn’t want to tell Cinder that the only person this was going to match up with was Salem. Still, LoveDaddy had agreed to this date, so Emerald figured if nothing else, there would be dinner and a show when Cinder set him on fire.

With more cajoling and pushing by Qrow, Tai finally entered the restaurant. He saw her as soon as he got through the foyer: black hair the color of night, falling down over her left eye, a slim body flattered by the red dress she wore. He nodded in her direction. “That’s her.”

Qrow took a drink from his flask. “Damn. Her picture does not do her justice. I take back what I said, Tai…she did _not_ lie about her age.”

Tai hung his head. “I know. Gods, Qrow, she’s young enough to be my daughter.”

“So what.” He shoved Tai forward. “Go for it, bro-in-law. I’ll be at the bar.”

Emerald looked over her shoulder. “That’s him?” She recognized the short blond hair, the handsome face, the goatee, and a physique that strained at the clothes. She whistled softly. “Yeah, he’s not bad at all.”

Cinder’s knees began to shake. “Oh gods, Emerald. He’s old enough to be my father.”

“Duh. His profile does say he’s a single dad.” Normally talking to Cinder like this would be a good way to get dead, but Emerald figured Cinder’s nervousness would give her some slack. “Anyway, good luck. I’ll be at the bar.” She got up, leaving Cinder alone.

Tai swallowed, once more asked Summer for forgiveness, and walked over to the table. Cinder looked up at him with a brittle smile. “L-LoveDaddy?” she stammered.

“iBurn?” He put out a hand. “Hi. You know, LoveDaddy is kind of a dumb name. I’m Taiyang.” He decided to leave off his last name; if this was going to be the disaster he thought it was, she was better off not knowing.

Unbeknownst to Tai, Cinder felt the same way. “Cinder.”

“That’s a pretty name.” Tai sat at the table. Cinder couldn’t help but look away. No one had ever called her name pretty before—her face, and her body to be sure, but not her name. 

They sat there, looking across the table for a long few minutes, both wanting to break the ice but neither daring to speak. Finally, Tai asked, “Do you like wine?” Then he grinned, scratching the back of his head. “I mean, if you don’t, that’s okay.”

Cinder took a chance. “You know…I could go for a cold beer instead.”

“Whoof,” Tai said, blowing out a breath. “Me too.” He called over the waiter and ordered two beers.

“She _left_ you? With a newborn?” Cinder was shocked. “That’s truly evil.” 

“Yeah. My first wife was…messed up. I don’t think she really realized what having kids means.” Tai pointed at her spaghetti. “How’s the food?”

Cinder slurped down some more. “This is excellent. I can’t thank you enough. How’s yours?”

He nodded as he chomped on a meatball. “Fantastic.” He drank the last of his beer and signaled for another. Cinder was still nursing hers; she was not a big drinker. “Speaking of evil…what did you mean by that on your profile?”

“Oh…you know.” Cinder was already regretting how her profile sounded. She’d already had to explain that by ‘Maidens’ she meant that she was writing a graduate thesis about the Legend of the Four Maidens. Tai hadn’t mentioned the silver-eyed brats yet; she didn’t know how she’d get out of that one. First, of course, she had to get out of _this_ one. “I like to get evil in the, uh…bedroom.” Cinder blushed. 

“Oh.” Tai was blushing too. It was the first time that sex had come up in the conversation. He figured he’d better steer it towards something else. “You know, I was a Huntsman. I still sort of am…let my license expire, though. You said you loved Grimm?”

“Yes!” Cinder answered, a little too quickly. “I love Grimm. They’re so, uh, interesting. Yes, interesting.”

“Not if they’re trying to gnaw off your leg,” Tai said.

“Of course,” Cinder assured him. “I’m not condoning what they do,” she lied. “It’s just that I’m curious as to where they come from.”

Tai popped the top off his beer. He knew the answer to that question, but also knew it was a carefully guarded secret, known only to a select group of people with Ozpin’s permission. “Me too,” he lied. “Of course, when you’re fighting them, that’s a different story.”

“What’s your Semblance?” Cinder asked. She took a pull on the beer.

“I punch things really hard.” He laughed self-consciously. “Yeah, kind of boring.”

“Actually, I find that interesting.” Cinder wasn’t lying this time; someone who could punch a Grimm into dust could be useful. _And he’s a former Huntsman,_ she mused. _We could use someone with those skills._

“What’s yours?”

“I set things on fire.” It wasn’t really her Semblance—Cinder’s was her obsidian bow—but it would be the easiest way to explain away her partial Maiden powers. “Explains all the references to burning on my profile, huh?”

“That’s hot.” Instantly, Tai wanted to punch _himself_ for saying that. It was his weakness: bad puns. Both Ruby and Qrow had warned him not to use them. Even Yang had been worried about it, and she loved her father’s puns. _Guess that’s that,_ he sighed to himself.

To his surprise, Cinder snorted and laughed. She grabbed her nose. “Don’t!” she snickered. “Oh crap, beer up the nose!” Tai started laughing as well. Once she’d gotten control of herself, she waved the waiter over for another beer. 

“I admire you, Tai. A single dad with _two_ daughters. That must have been hell.” Cinder’s eyes got big when she saw the bowl of Mistrali ice cream set in front of her, with a bit of waffle stuck in it. “Oh my gods!”

Tai’s ice cream was no less heroic. “Man, that’s a lot of sugar right there.”

“Meh! I have a high metabolism.” Cinder took a spoonful of the ice cream, ate it, and closed her eyes. “Wow. Mmmm!”

“Yeah.” Tai ate some of his, but a wave of melancholy came over him. Summer had loved Mistrali ice cream. 

Cinder noted the sudden sadness on his face. “Tai?”

“Sorry.” Tai pasted a smile on his face. “Bad memory.”

“Oh. First wife?”

“Second. She…” Tai couldn’t say the word. Summer was dead, and had been for nearly 16 years. Her grave was behind his house, even if it was empty. He still couldn’t say it. “She disappeared. She was a Huntress too.”

“I’m…” Cinder felt an uncommon emotion for her: empathy. “I’m sorry, Tai.” She reached across and took his hand. Not surprisingly, hers was warm. “That must have been so hard on you, raising two girls all by yourself.”

“Well, I had some help from my brother-in-law. And it wasn’t hell—well, most of the time. They’re good girls. Hell _raisers,_ maybe, but they love me, for some reason.”

“Because you’re a good man.” Cinder picked at her ice cream. She hadn’t known many good men. In fact, she hadn’t known any. She glanced at Tai through her hair. He seemed like a very good man. He’d had bad luck with women, just as she’d had bad luck with men. Somehow, he’d managed to raise two daughters, alone. Cinder found herself wanting to meet these two girls. She wondered what it would be like to have parents that loved their children. All she’d had was a wicked stepmother. _No,_ Cinder commanded herself, _don’t think about her._

_Dammit all to hell,_ Tai thought. _I’ve ruined it._ Now they both were depressed. He sensed Cinder was normally someone who didn’t wear her emotions on her sleeve, but the excellent dinner and wonderful banter had lowered her defenses some. And now he was seeing a very sad young woman sitting across from him. He wondered what had happened to her, but didn’t want to ask; it was none of his business. Of course, he’d told her a lot about Raven and Summer without mentioning names, but Tai realized he’d needed to talk about his wives to someone besides Qrow and Ozpin. 

But Tai could not stand to see a sad girl. He decided he needed to make Cinder laugh. He liked her laugh. It was a slightly dirty laugh, a little tinge of bad girl, which reminded him of Raven. He reached into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out his Scroll, then opened it. He quickly looked through his pictures while Cinder ate her ice cream listlessly. “You want to see something funny?” he asked into the silence.

“Sure,” Cinder said, without much conviction.

He showed her his Scroll. “Shirtless selfie! My daughters put me up to it, can you believe that? Me! Now tell me that’s not funny.”

Cinder had a spoon of ice cream in her mouth, and she nearly bit through it. It was not funny at all. Taiyang was cut like a bodybuilder, and if he had some years on her, they were all to the good. She took in the strong pectorals, the superb biceps, and the six-pack of abdominals, which teased at something infinitely interesting below them. She swallowed the ice cream and tried not to take the spoon with it. “That’s…impressive, actually.”

Tai looked at the selfie. “That? Nah, come on. I just chop wood. I don’t work out or anything.”

“Okay, my turn for silly selfie.” Cinder picked up her Scroll, thumbed through her pictures, and showed one to him. Tai was drinking more beer, and nearly coughed it back up. Cinder’s selfie was not funny either. It was her in a bikini, one that did not leave much to the imagination. Tai would take it to his grave, but Cinder neither had the wild attractiveness of Raven nor the gentle cuteness of Summer. Instead, she was quite simply stunningly beautiful, a beauty that made everything else dull behind it. “Holy shit,” he whispered without realizing it.

“I _do_ work out,” Cinder said, smiling. “Quite a bit.”

“Yeah, I guess so!”

They munched on their waffles. When she was finished, Cinder finished her third beer. She felt pleasantly buzzed, and admired Taiyang. _He’s a good man,_ she told herself again. _I’ve never been with a good man. It might be an interesting change of pace. It would be nice to be with someone who isn’t just using me to get something—or I’m not using them._

“Taiyang,” Cinder said softly, “I want to tell you something. What I want, I usually get. And right now I want you. But I feel wrong somehow, asking you…to…” 

Tai finished his waffle, and took her hands. “You don’t want me, Cinder. I…I lied a lot on my profile. My daughters helped me with it,” he admitted. 

“They told the truth. You _are_ dangerous but dependable, an edgy thrillseeker yet responsible, a brooding bad boy with a wholesome sense of humor.” Cinder gripped his fingers gently. “And I…I think I need someone like that in my life right now.” She looked up at him. “Not long term, no, but maybe just for tonight. If you want.”

Tai saw the need in her eyes, and the desperation. It would be easy to pity her, but he suspected Cinder didn’t want to be pitied. He saw the fire there, a fire that wanted to be free. And he was tired of waking up alone in bed every morning, and his hands searching for a Raven or a Summer that was never there and would never be there again. He still would, but for one morning, he wouldn't. “I think I’d like that.”

“There’s a hotel next to the restaurant. Home’s too far away for both of us. Will that be fine?”

Tai nodded, surprised to find himself excited. “I think so.”

Qrow looked up from his fifth scotch and soda to see Tai leaving with Cinder. Emerald, two stools down, looked up from her third martini on the rocks to see the same thing.

“I’ll be damned,” they said simutaneously.

Tai couldn’t help but think of Raven on their wedding night, even though his ex-wife was the last person he did want to think about at the moment. Cinder reminded him of her, mainly because they’d barely gotten the door of the eleventh-floor hotel room open before she was on him like a lamprey, grabbing his hair, kissing him hard on the lips, and trying to drive her tongue down his throat. He hoped that her next move wasn’t literally tearing off his clothes and loudly demanding him to, quote, fuck her brains loose. Raven tended to get filthy mouthed when she got turned on. He really hoped Yang had not inherited that trait—

_Tai,_ his brain said, _you have a very hot, very beautiful girl who is tasting your tonsils right now, with one leg running up your thigh, and you’re thinking about Raven? And Yang? What’s wrong with you, man?_ Tai was a bit disconcerted that his brain’s voice sounded like Qrow.

“Cinder,” he murmured through the kiss as he kicked the door shut behind him, “can we get to the bed first?”

“Mmm.” Cinder hopped up, kicking off her heels, putting both legs around him and forcing him to grab her rear to keep her from falling. Tai’s hands got a double handful, and they were round, firm and fully packed. “Take me there…LoveDaddy.”

He carried her to the bed and gently set her down. Cinder pulled down her dress and shimmied out of it, leaving the underskirt and her bra. Tai’s eyes rounded at the perfect breasts, neither too large nor too small. Cinder grinned evilly and unclasped the front, letting it fall aside. “Like what you see?” She reached out and cupped his groin. “Oh yes, you do.”

“Hey, hold on a sec…” But she was already unbuckling his pants, so Tai hurriedly took off the shirt and tie, barely keeping from losing a button. Cinder had his pants around his knees, but stopped when confronted with Tai’s chest. “My gods,” she whispered, and ran her hands over it. She’d always had a weakness for hard, manly muscles. It had gotten her in trouble, but at the moment, Cinder didn’t care. The past didn’t exist. The future didn’t either. There was just this room, this bed, and this hunk of male flesh in front of her. Her eyes flicked down, and she quickly relieved Tai of his boxers as well. His member sprang into view and hardened as she watched, eyes wide. “Now I know why you have two daughters,” Cinder murmured. _Jackpot!_ she added to herself. _Wow!_

Tai hoped it wouldn’t be too big; Summer had had some trouble. _No, can’t think about her right now,_ he told himself, but it was too late; he remembered Summer kneeling in front of him on _their_ wedding night. Not that Summer had been shy: just the opposite. 

“Aw,” Cinder grumped, seeing him deflate a little. But she knew how to get a man going. She dropped back on the bed, put her legs in the air, and took off the underskirt. She wore no panties beneath it. Tai was now looking at all of her, and as she slowly put her legs down, ran a hand over the trimmed patch of black hair between them. “Like what you see, LoveDaddy?”

“I burn,” Tai replied, and Cinder giggled. She looked at him with half-lidded, amber eyes. “So do I,” she replied huskily, and opened her legs in invitation.

Tai took her up on it, after a few seconds of kicking his pants and boxers off; he decided the socks could wait. It was not what Cinder was expecting, however. Tai instead gently took her thighs, scooted Cinder forward, and bent down to kiss her folds. She blinked. “Um…I actually wanted…you know…not much for…for foreplay…”

“Too bad. I’m all _for_ it.” He began licking her and tasting her everywhere, from her center, to the little nub, to her inner thighs. Cinder’s eyes widened and she gripped the bedcovers. She’d never felt anything like it. No man—no _woman_ —had ever done this to her so well. She began to squirm and moan loudly. 

Cinder suddenly grabbed his ears and levered his face up from her groin. “Listen to me,” she said, in a voice that sounded half-demonic, “I have got to have you _in_ me, Taiyang! Now!”

“In a minute.” Tai went back to his ministrations. The bedcovers began to smolder. He smelled smoke, and opportunity. After one last, long lick, he stood. “Hold on.” He walked towards the front door of the hotel room.

“B-B-But—“ Cinder trembled, so close to her peak and yet so far.

He leaned around the corner. “One second.” She heard him lock the door, then fiddle with something by it. Tai took the opportunity to get his socks off, then walked back.

Cinder was standing next to the bed, fire haloed around her eyes, little flames rising from her fingertips. “Taiyang,” she growled. “Get on this bed or I swear to all the gods that I will burn you _alive!”_

_So this is what she meant by getting evil in the bedroom._ Tai, however, was not intimidated; he’d been married to Raven Branwen for two years. “Okay.” He got onto the bed and lay down, his erection sticking straight up into the air.

Cinder let out a very Grimmlike snarl, straddled him, and slowly impaled herself on him. Tai was surprised: she took all of him, and if she was on fire on the outside, the inside was not much different. Cinder leaned forward and gripped the bedstead. “I’m going to bang you until you beg me to stop,” she panted.

“Bring it.” Tai made come-fight gestures with his hands.

“ _Rrragh!”_ Cinder began riding Tai like he was a bull and it was the Atlas Royal Fair. She lasted more than eight seconds, but not by much. Cinder threw back her head and screamed as she came; she managed to keep her hands in the air, so the flames that leapt up from them didn’t set the bed on fire. Tai refused to give her a break: even as she came down from her orgasm, he began to push into her. Not that Cinder minded. She laughed and grinned down at him, and met him thrust for thrust. Tai slowed down, even though it had been so long; he wanted to prolong it for both of them. Cinder didn’t make it easy, making lewd noises and running her hands over him, leaving little bits of steam popping where their sweat met her heat. Before long, Tai could not hold back any longer. “Cinder…”

She leaned over him, grabbing the headboard again. “Do it! Do it!” She added a few words that would’ve shocked even Raven, and with one last plunge, Tai emptied himself into her. Cinder smiled and rode him a little bit longer, then rolled off next to him, sweaty but very satisfied. “Whew,” she breathed. 

Tai looked above him. There were two handprints melted into the headboard. “Wow,” he croaked. “Good thing I disabled the fire alarm.”

“Yeah, good thing.” She kissed his shoulder, then his tattoo. “I thought your Semblance was your hands, not your tongue.”

“Hey, you learn things when you’re married.” 

“I can see why you were married twice. That first wife of yours was a damn fool. What did you say her name was? I’m tempted to light a fire under her ass for leaving you like that.”

Tai decided there was no harm; it was not like Cinder would ever meet her. “Raven.”

The name sounded familiar to Cinder. _Could it be…no, that’s ridiculous. It couldn’t be._ She decided to change the subject. “So.” She traced her finger over those delicious pectorals. She still felt her body buzzing, and wondered if he’d be up for presenting a few more oral arguments. “What is your last name, Tai? I’ll show you mine if I show you yours.” She ran her hand down a curved thigh and waggled her eyebrows at him.

No harm in that either, he figured; she’d know sooner or later. “Taiyang Xiao Long.”

Cinder’s playing stopped. “Xiao Long? Wait. Is your daughter…Yang Xiao Long?”

He looked at her, surprised. “You know my daughter?” _Please don’t be a student at Beacon,_ he prayed silently. Cinder wasn’t _that_ young…he hoped.

“We’ve…met briefly. I, ah, toured Beacon. The green-haired girl that was with me? She’s my, er, cousin. She’s an exchange student at Beacon. She introduced us.” Cinder prayed that Tai believed her. “She’s very pretty, your daughter.”

“My other daughter goes there too—Ruby Rose.”

“ _Ruby Rose?!”_ Cinder exclaimed. “The one who beat up Torchwick?”

Tai smiled as he leaned back. “Yep. That’s my girl. Guess you heard of her. She got admitted early into Beacon. Really wish she hadn’t taken on a gang by herself, but that’s what they get for trying to rob her.”

Cinder’s mind whirled. _Oh gods,_ she thought frantically, _that's the silver-eyed brat! If_ _Yang and Ruby are his daughters, then the plan’s in danger! He might want to introduce me to them if we take this any further, and they’ll know I’m the ‘exchange student’ from Haven, and he’ll know I lied! And if he does any more digging, then he’ll figure out I’m the one who attacked Amber! Wait—Raven…Raven_ Branwen? _That would mean that drunk he came in with is her brother, Qrow! Oh gods…what am I going to do? I have to kill him! He’ll ruin the plan…I have to kill him—_

His right hand reached out and idly traced a pink nipple. Cinder, taken by surprise, gasped. “You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice tired. “I hope…you liked that. You’re the first since my second wife…well…since she...”

Cinder saw the tears in his eyes, leaned over, and kissed his cheek. “Shh. Don’t talk. Just relax. Get some sleep.” His eyelids fluttered shut, and Cinder smiled. She curled up next to him as he fell asleep. “Oh, the hell with it,” she whispered. “This can be my little secret. No one has to know.”

Salem sat on her crystalline throne, staring at the Seer Grimm. She snapped her fingers, and a bottle of bourbon materialized on the table in front of her. She reached forward, pulled the cork out with her teeth, and drank straight from the bottle. “Son of a bitch,” she mused. “Who’s that bastard going to screw _next?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh. Look out, Salem. You might be the next person Tai sleeps with. He's like the Dick Grayson of RWBY.
> 
> Not sure if Cinder's powers quite work like that at this point, since she hasn't killed Amber yet, but this fic isn't that concerned with canon and other science facts.


	43. Animal Instinct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Velvet Scarlatina is getting ready for bed when she's suddenly surprised by a very amorous Coco Adel. But Coco's never shown anything but friendly affection towards Velvet--why is she tearing Velvet's clothes off? And begging forgiveness at the same time?
> 
> And what's this about Faunus being in heat?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gojira Rose suggested "Do something with Coco and Velvet" a few months back, but it took me awhile to come up with something. As in "I completely rewrote this thing twice," which is why it's getting posted at 3:30 AM. I nearly scrapped the idea, since I think Coco wouldn't really mess around with her own teammates, especially the shy Velvet. I'm still not sure it works, but hopefully it does.

Velvet Scarlatina leaned back in her computer chair and stretched, then yawned. She looked at the clock. _2200 Hours? It’s getting late._ _Oh well, I’ve done enough damage for one night._ She flipped through her photographs she had taken on Team CFVY’s latest mission into the Vacuo Desert. Though Velvet used her camera to take pictures of weapons to be used later, she also took pictures for fun. Half the fun was processing them and posting them online for people to see—especially those students who used to be at Beacon. She missed them terribly.

Velvet yawned again and decided it was time to be getting on to bed. Her tiny dorm room at Shade Academy gave her just enough room for a computer, a chair, a tiny table, an even smaller refrigerator, and her bed. Luckily, Velvet was not a very big person; she had no idea how Yatsuhachi stood it. 

Just as she pulled off her shirt to change into her pajamas, someone knocked on her door. “Who is it?” she called out.

“Coco!”

Velvet rolled over her bed nimbly and opened the door about a third of the way. “Hi, Coco. What’s up?”

“I need to come in. Right now.”

The urgency in Coco Adel’s voice scared Velvet. Coco rarely got rattled or scared; being confronted by a horde of slavering Grimm was another day at the office for her. She let her friend and team leader into the room. “Coco? What is it?” Velvet’s voice went up an octave or two; panic was infectious.

Coco grabbed Velvet by the shoulders and kissed her, hard. With one booted foot, she kicked the door shut. Velvet had no time to react as Coco hands quickly undid the clasp to the Faunus girl’s bra, freeing her breasts. Velvet yelped, but Coco refused to give up the liplock until Velvet wrenched free by main force. “Coco, what are—“

Coco took the opportunity to take off her sunglasses and set them aside, which _really_ disconcerted Velvet; Coco only took off her sunglasses when she was very serious about something or when she went to bed. She even wore her sunglasses at night, so she could keep track of the visions in her eyes. “Velvet, listen to me. We _have_ to do this. I’m sorry.” 

“But—but—“ Then it was all Velvet could do just to breathe, as Coco again crushed her lips against hers. Worse, Velvet thought, her ears straight up in panic, her team leader’s tongue was slipping past her lips. Even worse than that, Coco’s hands were slipping off Velvet’s pants and taking her panties with it. _What’s wrong with her?_ Velvet thought frantically. _Why do we have to…uh oh. Those are Coco’s fingers, and…oh dear._ Coco’s calloused fingers were moving down, across the curls of the Faunus’ brown pubic hair, towards their destination. She finally came up for air as the fingers pushed Velvet’s labia gently apart, and two found their way inside. Velvet gasped in shock. “C-Coco…”

“It’s okay,” Coco said soothingly. “I’m going to help you, Velvet. It’s all right. I’m here for you, girlfriend. I’m here. Just relax, I've got you, you're safe, and...” Then her eyes narrowed. “Uh, Velvet?”

“Y-Yes, Coco?” Velvet stammered.

“You’re…well, you’re not very wet. Down there.”

“Well, no,” Velvet admitted, thinking to herself that this was a very strange conversation to be having with the leader of Team CFVY. Coco was fully clothed in her usual tan blouse and black pants, though she’d left the scarf, beret, and (thankfully) Gianduja—her gatling gun—back at her own dorm room. Velvet was naked from the knees up, her legs slightly spread, and her friend’s fingers stuck where Velvet never thought her friend’s fingers would ever be. 

“Why not?”

“This is kind of sudden?” Velvet offered.

“But…I don’t get it.”

Velvet tried not to squirm, especially with two fingers stuck inside of her. She wasn’t sure if she should be aroused or not. While Coco made no bones about being a lesbian, Velvet was straight. Or at least she was pretty sure she was. Right now, she wasn't entirely sure of that. She wasn’t terribly experienced in this sort of thing. This was exactly her second sexual encounter, and to say that she was taken by surprise was the understatement of the millennia. “What don’t you get?”

“It’s just that…if you’re in heat, shouldn’t you be turned on?”

Velvet’s big brown eyes got a little bigger. “If I’m in what?”

“In heat.”

“Um, Coco…I’m not in heat.”

“You’re not?”

“Faunus don’t get in heat, Coco.”

“They don’t?” Realization flooded Coco’s face, and she jerked her fingers out of Velvet like the Faunus had caught on fire. “What the _fuck?”_

Velvet used the opportunity to pull back from her very confused friend. The problem was, she was now naked above the ankles: she tripped and fell backwards onto the bed, splaying out, her breasts bouncing nicely. Coco looked down and went red, her eyes nearly as wide as Velvet’s, her expression the same as Cinder Fall's when confronted with a Maiden. The Faunus covered herself. “Coco, do you want to explain just what in the heck you’re doing?” While Velvet could be painfully shy around strangers, her team was a different story.

Coco sat on the bed, her back to Velvet. “I think I’ve been had.” She looked at her friend over her shoulder. “You know the leader of Team SSSN, Sun Wukong?”

“The one with the rock-hard abs?”

“Yeah, the one with the rock-hard, glistening—never mind that!” Coco shook her head vehemently. Velvet reconsidered: she was _fairly_ sure Coco Adel was gay. Then again, it _was_ Sun Wukong. “Anyway, he said that it was the time of year Faunus get into heat, and you would have it worst of all…being a rabbit Faunus.”

“Oh gods.” Velvet didn’t have a hand free to put over her eyes, but she wished she did. There was a rumor thousands of years old that simply would not die: that rabbit Faunus bred like rabbits, liked sex like rabbits, and therefore would screw like rabbits. Both male and female rabbit Faunus found themselves being propositioned by curious humans, and Faunus that should know better. While it was true that rabbit Faunus—such as the Scarlatina family itself—were larger than the norm, they were not loose with their affections. She’d thought Team CFVY knew that, but Velvet realized it wasn’t like the team talked about sex overmuch. Coco did, but it was usually to describe what she was going to do to a pretty girl in graphic detail, which amused Fox Alastair, made Yatsuhachi Daichi shake his head, and embarrassed the hell out of Velvet. Though one part of Velvet wanted to hit Coco over the head with a brick for making such a foolish assumption, another part realized that Coco probably didn’t know a lot about Faunus physiology. That and Sun could convince Winter Schnee to air condition an igloo. 

“Yeah. I totally fell for it. In my defense, I had this cat when I was a kid, and the poor thing went into heat. It was really painful for her…she would just yowl and yowl, and…and I’m a damned idiot.” Coco slumped. “I’m sorry, Velvet. I’m so sorry I’m so dumb.”

“It’s okay, Coco. You were just looking out for me. You were worried about me.” Velvet managed to get herself untangled from her pants, pulled her panties back up, and then quickly grabbed her nightshirt from the tiny dresser. “Why not send Fox—oh, he’s still out of town,” she remembered. “But what about Yatsuhachi?”

“He told me once what happened that one time you two tried to hook up. He said you screamed when he dropped his pants.”

Velvet could not help but smile. That was the night in the Vacuo desert, when it got very cold in their shared tent. They had dated off and on since Beacon, one thing led to another in a heavy kissing session, and Velvet had learned that everything on her big battle partner was king-sized. “Yes, but we didn’t stop!” _Of course, he couldn’t fit it in, either, but we managed._ Velvet blushed at the memory. Yatsu’s hands might be large too, but he knew how to use them.

“He didn't mention that part. So it was me by a process of elimination.” Coco sighed. “And I guess…well, hell, Velvet. You know I’ve always found you cute. I guess I believed what I wanted to believe.”

Velvet scooted down the bed to sit next to her, hesitated, then put an arm around her. “It’s okay, Coco,” she said again. “Your intentions were good. But next time…ask?”

Coco buried her face in her hands. “Velvet, you have every right to punch my lights out. I just had this vision of you being in pain, yowling like my cat, and suffering and…like I said, I just wanted to believe that the direct approach was best. As usual.” Velvet nodded. That was so much like Coco: charge the enemy, unafraid, and Grimm take the hindmost. “If you hated me forever for this…”

Velvet leaned forward and kissed Coco’s cheek. “I could, but I’m not going to.” She sighed. “I wish I could do more, maybe. But I—“

“—don’t find me attractive. I get it, Velvet. You’re straight. It’s cool.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Well, now that I’ve made a perfect idiot of myself and basically sexually assaulted my teammate, I guess I’ll go to bed. And then tomorrow, I’ll _kill_ Sun Wukong.”

Unknown to her teammates, inside Velvet Scarlatina’s shy exterior was a prankster. She almost never got a chance to indulge in it, because she was scared to. She always envied Yang Xiao Long’s ability to pull off a good prank: dousing Weiss Schnee in ice water, slipping salt into Professor Oobleck’s coffee, exchanging Blake Belladonna’s pillow for Zwei the dog. (Velvet still didn’t know how Yang had accomplished _that._ ) Velvet was too unsure of herself to get involved in such sophomoric activity…but she’d always wanted to.

And now she realized she had her chance.

A very un-Velvetlike crafty expression appeared on her face; the only thing she needed was a mustache to twirl. “Coco,” she said, “rather than kill Sun…do you want to mess with him instead?”

Coco’s head came up. “Hell yes.”

Velvet blushed to even think about it, but revenge for the honor of Team CFVY was now at stake, so she told her leader her plan. Coco’s eyebrows raised. “You sure? That’s going to take some acting on your part. And on mine. I don’t much believe in fishing in the company pond, Velvet, and seeing you naked on that bed has already got me hot and bothered.”

“I can do it.”

Coco nodded. “Then so can I. Let’s get the bastard.”

The next morning, Sun Wukong was headed down the hallway, striding rather than walking. As usual, his shirt was unbuttoned to his navel, and it had nothing to do with the warm temperature of Vacuo. He was watching the girls of Shade Academy nearly walk into columns or trip over their own feet at his passage. Even Ilia Amitola had stopped cold at the sight. 

“Hi, Sun.” Coco Adel waved to him as she walked out of a classroom. 

“Hey.” He motioned her over. He’d played a joke on her the night before at a late night dinner, telling her with straight-faced solemnity that Faunus were usually hitting their heat about this time of year, and Velvet Scarlatina, being a rabbit Faunus, would probably be the worst off. He dropped broad hints that her life might even be in danger. Neptune had given him hell after Coco had left, and Sun _had_ felt bad about it. What seemed to be hilarious at 11 PM felt kind of assholish at 3 AM. “Look, Coco…about what I said last night…”

“Oh, I wanted to thank you for that,” Coco interrupted. “I’m really glad you told me. I think we may have saved a life last night.”

“Uh…what?” Sun was confused. He’d half expected Coco to shoot him with her gatling gun, and she was _thanking_ him?

“Oh, yes. I was able to take care of Velvet’s, ah, problem. Mostly.”

“But, Coco—“

_“Coco!”_ They both turned to see Velvet dashing across Shade Academy’s enclosed quad, nearly mowing down two passerby. She cleared a row of bushes in one jump, took another, and jumped into Coco’s arms, dislodging the leader of Team CFVY’s beret and nearly knocking her sunglasses off. To Sun’s utter shock, she grabbed Coco by the ears and brought her forward into a toe-curling kiss. Velvet broke it off, panting. “Coco! I can’t stand it! I’ve got to have it! I’ve got to have it _right now!”_ Her face was bright red, her ears flattened backwards. Without warning, she threw her head back and let out a most unrabbit like yowl. It was something Sun might’ve expected from Blake, not Velvet Scarlatina.

“Okay, okay,” Coco said, shushing her, still holding Velvet by the Faunus’ rear end. “Just calm down. We’ll get you back to the dorms, and then we’ll get it worked out.”

“Oh gods,” Velvet panted. “I don’t know if I can wait that long. It hurrrrts, Coco.”

“Velvet, keep it down!” Coco hissed. Sun was not the only passerby, and she noticed that others had stopped to look. “I mean, we have to be careful—“

“I want you pull my ears!” Velvet exclaimed.

“—and last night, Yatsuhachi had to throw water on us—“

“—and I want you to spank me! I’ve been a bad bunny, Coco!”

Under the word _flabbergasted_ in the Remnant New Dictionary, there would’ve been a picture of Sun Wukong. He stood there, mouth open in shock, eyes wide. Coco spared one hand to lightly smack Velvet’s brown-clad derriere; Velvet squealed and involuntarily rose. To Sun’s detached horror, that wasn’t the _only_ thing that was rising at Shade Academy this morning.

And then a flash went off. Stars appeared in front of Sun’s eyes, he blinked away the spots, and saw that Velvet was holding onto Coco with her left hand while holding up her camera with her right. Coco looked at Sun over the tops of her glasses. “Smile, asshole.”

Velvet hopped down. “Got you!”

Sun rubbed his eyes. “Wait…what just happened?”

Coco leaned towards him. “You just got pranked, that’s what just happened. Serves you right.”

“Then…that was…ah, shit.” Sun hung his head, then started laughing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Velvet's fun to write. I think I might have to do more with her in it. Maybe talk about that desert night with Yatsuhachi...
> 
> And there's no way I was going to let a chapter with Coco Adel go past without making a "Sunglasses at Night" reference.


	44. Everybody Have Fun Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter is surprised by Qrow waiting for her in her apartment, with only one thing on his mind. She's more than willing, but they're quickly interrupted by Weiss. 
> 
> Just what does Weiss want, and why is roleplaying suddenly breaking out all over Atlas Academy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A combination of several ideas, both mine and suggestions. I enjoyed writing this one a lot.

Winter Schnee was tired. Once out of sight of any Atlesian military officials or soldiers, or students at Atlas Academy, her shoulders slumped as she walked the last few blocks to her small apartment on the academy grounds. She looked forward to getting her boots off, putting her feet up, and enjoying the rest of the evening. Maybe taking a long, hot shower, too. She drew out her keycard, punched in the security code, and opened the door, only to be confronted by Qrow Branwen. That would’ve been enough to make her jump, but the fact that he was buck naked with an erection was enough for her to leap backwards as if he was a Grimm, her hand going to her sword. 

“Hey, Ice Queen,” he grinned.

“You sick son of a bitch!” she shouted, more surprised than angry. “What in the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

“I flew in.” He waved his arms.

“Jerk.” She kept forgetting he could transform into a bird. She’d left the window open a little to air out her apartment this morning, so in his crow form he easily could’ve slipped under the windowsill. 

“Nice to see you too.” He pointed downwards at his bobbing member. “You gonna do something about this?”

“Certainly. Just hold still.” Winter drew back a boot for a devastating kick, and Qrow retreated back in the house, hands going to cover himself. “Winter!” he yelled. 

Winter smiled. Actually, the sight of Qrow’s lean, hairy form was quite alluring. Her groin tingled at the memory of the last time he’d come over. Now that Teams RWBY and JNR were based in Atlas, Qrow was able to drop by a lot more often. Winter felt that she was getting spoiled by having him around, but also knew she’d better enjoy it while it lasted: Salem wasn’t going to hold off much longer before making her move. Whether as General Ironwood’s field commander or the Winter Maiden, Winter would be on the front lines, and her lifespan might be measured in minutes then. She walked into the apartment and closed the door behind her. “Oh, all right,” she said, and rose to tiptoe to kiss him. “I don’t like surprises, you know that.”

“If it was your birthday, I’d giftwrap myself.” He kissed her lips, then opened her collar and began kissing her neck. “Just wearing a bow and nothing else, like a thong.”

“I’m not sure if I’m nauseated by that or turned on.” Winter allowed herself to be pushed to the wall as Qrow unzipped her tunic; she pulled off her jacket and let it fall to the floor. Her bra-clad breasts were out now, and both of them worked on her pants. Winter suddenly realized that Qrow wasn’t going to carry her to the bedroom; he was going to take her right here, against the wall. “Wait, Qrow!” she whispered huskily, as he got her pants down around her knees. 

“Nope.”

“No, Qrow! Not here against my wall…not…oh, don’t do that, you filthy bastard…” He’d slipped a finger underneath the waistband of her panties and quickly found the little protrusion he’d been searching for. He knelt, rolled down her underwear, and replaced his finger with his tongue. Winter sagged against the wall, her breath quickening; she undid her bra and let it fall away, more to catch her breath than anything else. “Why are you so _good_ at that…”

Then the doorbell rang. Both of them froze, then looked at the door. It rang again. Qrow’s face darkened in rage. “Why does this happen so much?” he hissed.

“Who is it?” Winter called out, trying to sound normal.

“It’s Weiss,” came the voice.

“Dammit,” Winter said softly. If it was Weiss, it was probably important. “What do you need, Weiss? I was about to retire for the evening.”

“Well…” Weiss’ voice sounded unusually hesitant. “This is weird, but can I borrow a uniform? Your uniform?”

Winter made a face. That was very odd to say the least. “What for?”

“Can I come in?”

Qrow shook his head, but Winter sighed. “Yes, just a moment.” She pulled up underwear and pants, then zipped her tunic back up. Quickly, she tossed the bra and the jacket into a closet, and shooed Qrow into the bathroom. Then she tried to straighten her hair and went to the door, opening it a little. Weiss stood there in her older outfit, rather than the newer one she had adopted recently. “Weiss, I was about to get to bed. It’s been a long day.” Out of the corner of one eye, she saw Qrow’s clothes strewn haphazardly around the sofa. If Weiss came in, she would know what her sister was getting up to. 

“I know it’s a strange request, Winter, but Elm Ederne told me that Atlas has to make some alterations to my uniform. And since I’ve grown some, they thought they could use one of your uniforms as a pattern.” She shrugged. “Doesn’t make any sense to me either, but that’s what they said.”

“Very well. Wait here.” Winter quickly walked to her bedroom, nearly stumbled when she saw Qrow in the bathroom doing an impression of a helicopter with his penis and grinning at her, and grabbed a clean uniform from her closet. She avoided looking at the bathroom and almost flung the uniform at Weiss when she got back to the door. Weiss looked a little surprised. “Winter?” She tried to glance around the apartment. “Are you alone?”

“Yes, why?”

Weiss hesitated, then smiled. “Just curious.” She reached up and kissed her sister on the cheek. “Thanks.”

Winter smiled back; the two sisters had never stopped loving each other. “You’re welcome, Weiss. Just bring it back intact.”

“Certainly.” Weiss waved and left. Winter blew out her breath in relief as she closed the door. Then she threw the bathroom a sly look, and quickly stripped nude. She walked into the bathroom, and Qrow’s amused expression instantly faded. He’d never know just how he’d gotten a beauty like Winter Schnee to like him, let alone be a lover. 

“You’re a filthy bastard,” she repeated, and pointed to the shower. “So I think I’d better bathe you.”

“Ooo, kinky.” Qrow slapped her butt as she moved past him to turn on the taps. “I’d better wash you too, dirty girl.”

Winter gave him a dirty laugh and beckoned him into the shower. It wasn’t really big enough for two, but they managed.

Jaune Arc wondered how he’d gotten himself into this. 

He was sitting on his bed—more or less. Actually, he was spreadeagled on it, his wrists and ankles held at the corners by white snowflake glyphs. His only clothing was a pair of briefs. “Uh…Weiss…”

“Just a moment!” Her voice floated in from the bathroom, followed by a few choice curses. Then the light flicked off, leaving only the dorm room itself bathed in soft light from the desk lamp. Jaune turned towards the bathroom, and his jaw dropped.

Weiss was wearing her sister’s uniform, the creases still razor sharp, though the effect was a little ruined, since she was still in her socks rather than in polished boots, and Weiss could not fill out the uniform like her sister. In one hand was Myrtenaster, and she tapped it against a gloved hand. “So, Jaune Arc,” she said imperiously, “you have offended the Schnee family, and for that, you will pay.” Jaune was very thankful that Weiss had kept her braid; if she’d styled her hair like Winter’s, he’d have to call a stop to this. “Do you confess your crimes?”

“Uh, sure.” Jaune shook his head. Winter might not be his lover, but Weiss in her sister's uniform was definitely a turn-on. “I mean, no! Your family deserves it!” What exactly he had supposedly done he had no idea, but this whole thing was Weiss’ idea anyway. They hadn't discussed the finer points of the scenario.

For Weiss’ part, being dressed in Winter’s uniform was not really a turn-on. Having power _was._ The uniform and the sword was an extension of power, and having Jaune restrained was getting her a lot more hot and bothered than she wanted to admit. She tapped the sword a few more times, then ran her eyes the length of Jaune’s toned body. That made her mouth go dry. She stilled the sudden tremble in her hand. “What should your punishment be, Mister Arc?” she asked shakily.

“It doesn’t matter.” Jaune closed his eyes and set his jaw in an expression of defiance. “Do your worst, Weiss Schnee. I’ll never break!”

“We shall see.” Weiss gently laid the cold steel of Myrtenaster against his skin, the point towards his feet. Jaune opened his eyes in consternation at that, because the saber was double-edged. Sexy roleplaying was just fine with him, but getting sliced open was most definitely off the table. She carefully slid the blade forward, underneath the waistband along his hips. With a flick of her wrist that nearly gave Jaune heart failure, she sliced through the side of the briefs. Carefully laying Myrtenaster aside, she contemptously flung the briefs away, exposing Jaune completely. “Hmpf. So small.”

“Hey!” Jaune protested. “I’m average—“

“Silence!” Weiss commanded, and drew back her hand, as if to slap him. Jaune wondered if they hadn’t taken it too far, and wished they’d agreed on a safe word. Then Weiss lowered her hand, and took off her gloves, one finger at a time. “I’ve decided on your punishment, Jaune.” Throwing the gloves onto the nightstand, she then reached down and slipped off her pants. She wore no underwear. Weiss climbed onto the bed, straddling his chest, and pushed her crotch towards his face. Jaune could see that she was very aroused. _Great,_ he thought to himself. _Weiss gets off on power. Ah well._ It wasn’t like he minded _that_ much. He reached forward to lick her, but the glyphs held and his tongue was not long enough. “Weithsf,” he said, “I canthf reasthf.”

Weiss looked down. “Oh, sorry. All right, just a moment, let me…” She walked on her knees forward a bit. Jaune still couldn’t reach, and he was going to hurt himself if he kept trying. Weiss rolled her eyes and released the glyphs on his wrists. “You have shown me your enthusiasm, fool,” she snarled. “Now if you…er…perform well enough, perhaps I will let you, ah, get off.” Weiss’ heart missed a beat when he moved aside the tails of the uniform jacket, took a double handful of her rear end, and went to work with his tongue. “That’s good,” she panted. “Ah, gods…that’s…good…”

Oscar Pine, unlike Jaune Arc, was not tied up to his bed. In fact, he just waited patiently. Neither was he in his underwear, but dressed comfortably in his pajamas. “Ruby, are you sure about this?”

“I’m sure!” she called from the bathroom, then stuck her head around the doorjamb. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She nodded and retreated, and Oscar looked at the door. It was not only locked, but a chair and the Long Memory were wedged in place. Next to the bed was Crescent Rose, in rifle form and loaded with enough electricity Dust to fry every circuit in a certain overprotective android. Ruby had threatened the rest of Team RWBY with a painful death, and sabotaged the lock on Nora and Ren’s room so that they would have to wrench it open (which was no problem for Nora, but would give Ruby plenty of warning). Even the Relic of Knowledge was in the room—though Ruby had draped a cloth over it, just in case Jinn _could_ watch from it—in the hopes that its power might ward off any wandering, perverted undead Grimm queens. After so many interruptions in their already chaotic sex life, Ruby and Oscar were taking no chances. 

Oscar sighed. He was pretty sure he was in love with the girl—woman, he corrected himself—in the bathroom. He’d never known anyone like Ruby Rose, and counted himself the luckiest man in Remnant’s history just to be her lover. And even though he found her obsession with roleplaying to be a little bizarre, Ruby liked it, so Oscar indulged her. Besides, it tended to get her revved up. 

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yep! Hold on, just one last touch…” Ruby walked out of the bathroom, and Oscar’s eyes widened in shock.

Ruby was dressed in blue farmer’s coveralls, a straw hat, and nothing else. The straps barely hid her small breasts, and gave Oscar plenty of glimpses of the sides of her bosom and cleavage. She did a quick turn in place, and he saw the top of the cleft of her rear, and the cute little dimples above them; the overalls barely hid that, too. She was barefoot, and as Ruby turned those gorgeous silver eyes on him—which never failed to send a jolt straight to his groin—she stuck an strand of wheat between her lips. (Where she had found that, Oscar had no idea.)

“Howdy there,” she said, in what he assumed was supposed to be a lower Mistrali accent. “Ya want to plow mah fields there, farmer?”

Oscar’s cheeks bulged, and he exploded in laughter. He couldn’t stop laughing; eventually it got so bad he fell off the bed, pounding the floor in mirth. Ruby’s expression went sour. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Oscar slowly got his head up, then fell helplessly into howls of laughter again. “I’m…sorry!” he struggled out. “Your voice! Oh gods, I’m going to die! That’s the funniest…oh, gods, Ruby, I’m so sorry!”

Ruby sighed. _That_ was not the reaction she had been expecting. He was supposed to get off the bed, lovingly take her in his embrace, and peel down the straps of the overalls, where those rough farmer’s fingers could go to work on her chest. But the more Oscar laughed, the more Ruby started to smile, until she was giggling too. She went around the bed, took the wheat out of her mouth, and spit on the floor like it was chewing tobacco. “Ya’ll wanna screw, mister?” Ruby asked, and took down the straps, leaving her topless. But it was no use: Oscar was gone. His face was bright red, and he was holding his sides, nearly shrieking with laughter. Ruby had made it worse. Then she fell down next to him, slapping her knees, as his hilarity swept into her. They weren’t going to have sex anytime soon, but at least they were having fun.

Blake Belladonna propped herself up on her bed. “Is that Oscar? Someone’s laughing their ass off.”

“Can’t hear ya!” Yang Xiao Long called from the bathroom. 

Blake leaned back against the bed. She could not believe she’d let Yang talk her into this—though to be honest, it was more Ruby’s fault than her sister. She’d come into the dorm room earlier with a pair of farmer’s overalls that she’d found somewhere in Mantle, along with a straw hat, and had declared to Team RWBY that she, by the Brothers, was going to make sweet, passionate love to Oscar that night through the power of sexual roleplaying, and if anyone interrupted her, even her beloved sister, Ruby would shoot them once in the head and twice center mass. Even Yang had quailed beneath those blazing silver eyes. All of them had assured Ruby that they would not interrupt her and Oscar, commiserated that everything seemed to be going wrong for them as of late, and agreed to put it in writing that they would not interrupt Ruby Rose and Oscar Pine on the pain of imminent cessation of bodily functions.

The problem was, after Ruby had stomped out with the overalls over one shoulder, the mention of roleplaying had given them all ideas. Weiss had made excuses about visiting Winter. Once she was gone, Yang had thrown Blake a smoldering glance. Blake had smiled back and nodded. She wouldn’t have if she’d known this was what Yang had in mind.

Blake adjusted the cap on her head, then made sure the glasses were secure on her nose. Actually it was one of Weiss’ shower caps, and the glasses were Yang’s sunglasses. Blake moved them down her nose a little. She then glanced under the cover: she was naked beneath it. Without realizing it, she squeezed her thighs together in anticipation. “Yang, hurry up.”

“Hey, this damn thing isn’t easy to get into…okay, I got it. Here we go.” Yang switched off the bathroom light and skipped into the room. The lights were off: Atlas’ reflected lights gave off enough illumination, and in any case Blake’s night vision was exceptional. But when she saw Yang, Blake covered her eyes and started snickering. Somehow, Yang had squeezed into her sister’s corset and dress. The dress was making groaning noises, since Yang’s hips were larger than Ruby’s, and Yang’s considerably more impressive breasts were ballooning out over the top. Her sister’s cloak was tied around her shoulders, puffed out to contain Yang’s hair. 

Yang drew closer to the bed. “Gee, Grandma,” she whispered, “what big eyes you have.”

“What an insensitive thing to say to your loved ones,” Blake smirked back.

Another two steps. The corset was not going to hold much longer. “And what big ears you have.”

Blake’s ears flicked involuntarily inside the cap. “You know I’m really self-conscious about them.”

Yang drew close enough that their lips were almost touching. “And what big…teeth you have.”

“Okay,” Blake said with a pleased sigh, “you’re just a rude little brat. I’m going to kill you.”

“Promises, promises,” Yang grinned, and kissed Blake. As she bent over, they both heard something pop on Ruby’s dress. “Okay,” Yang said, “let me get out of this before I tear Ruby’s outfit apart.” With some grunting and groaning, the ensemble fell to the floor. Yang threw Ruby’s cloak onto her bed; there was no way in any known hell that she was having sex with Blake while wearing her sister’s hood, as that was rather creepy. Finally, Yang climbed into bed with her lover. She drew the sheet off and ran her real hand over the Faunus’ breasts. “And what big breasts you have.” She paused. “Though not as big as mine.”

“We big bad wolves are not well-endowed.” Blake nipped at Yang’s chin. “Now come closer so I can gobble you up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize I didn't mention Ren and Nora, but it's hard to make something sexy about Nora bashing down their own door with her hammer. (I suppose that must be someone's fetish, somewhere.) Ruby and Oscar are still getting interrupted, though this time it's their own fault.
> 
> And good luck watching *that* episode of RWBY Chibi again.


	45. Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another night of boredom in the Evernight Castle of Salem's dark realm. Emerald's got nothing to do, and plenty of time to do it in. But when Salem suggests they play a game, Emerald suggests a game they played at Beacon.
> 
> That was a big mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one tonight, as I have a very early wakeup call today. I hope all of you get a kick out of it. 
> 
> This chapter does reference some earlier ones, like Chapter 8 ("The Devil Went Down to Atlas"), Chapter 12 ("Private Eyes"), Chapter 40 ("Somebody's Watching Me"), and especially Chapter 24 ("Dinner And a Movie"). But if you haven't read those, you'll still like this.

Emerald Sustrai slumped in the chair in Salem’s throne room. She picked up her Scroll, looked at it, then set it down again. She was officially bored out of her mind. There was nothing to do. She’d been left out of the first phase of the attack on Atlas, and with just Mercury (who trained all the time) and Hazel (who brooded all the time) to keep her company in the castle, it really was a crashing bore. There were only so many times one could watch Grimm being born before even that got old hat.

Of course, there was Salem.

At the moment, the undead Queen of the Grimm was leaning back in her crystal throne, her bare feet up on the table and a book in her hands. Her eyes flicked up at Emerald. “What’s wrong with you?”

Emerald decided to be honest. She was an excellent liar, but Salem was equally excellent at knowing the truth. Besides, they had actually gotten somewhat close over the past few weeks, enough that Emerald had seen Salem’s somewhat human side. “I’m bored, Mistress Salem.”

“Well, go find a book. I have Remnant’s most extensive library.” She turned a page.

“What are you reading?” Emerald asked. 

“ _The Book of the Five Kingdoms,_ ” Salem answered.

“Five? I thought there were only four.”

Salem raised an eyebrow. “There were.” She slammed the book shut for emphasis. 

“Oh.” Emerald thought about leaving at that, but she doubted there would be too many books in the library that would hold her interest. Besides, she’d already done that several times. 

“Would you like to play a game?” Salem suddenly asked, surprising Emerald.

“Uh…like what?” Emerald swallowed. What the Grimm Queen found entertaining might not be healthy in the long run. Of course, refusing her might be unhealthy in the _short_ run. “You’re not going to turn me into a Grimm, are you?”

Salem smiled. “Would you like me to?” Seeing the revulsion on Emerald’s face, she shook her head. “No, Emerald. Nothing like that. It would be fun for me, but not for thee. Perhaps a game of chess?”

“You always beat me at that. Badly.”

Which was one reason why Salem had suggested chess, but the former thief didn’t need to know that. “I would suggest cards, but…you always beat _me_ at that.” Immortal and millennia old she might be, but Salem regularly lost to Emerald at cards. Even when she cheated. “Perhaps there is a game you could suggest?”

“Like what?” Emerald repeated.

“Use your imagination, child. Something you would play in school?” Salem prompted. She hadn’t been allowed to play with the other children, so long ago. Already, she and Emerald had done girly things like paint each others’ nails and braid each others’ hair, and that had been strangely fun. Emerald might surprise her again.

“Well…” Emerald looked at her shoes. “No, it’s silly. You’d hate it.”

Salem leaned on the arm of her chair. “Try me.”

“Okay. Have you ever played ‘Fuck, Marry, Kill’? We used to play it at Beacon.” Emerald bit her lip. She wasn’t sure how Salem would handle profanity; for an evil witch, she could be somewhat traditional.

“I cannot say as I have. What is it?”

Emerald used her Semblance to conjure an image of Ruby Rose on the wide table. Under normal circumstances, the image would appear real to most people; she could even make people _believe_ it was real. She didn’t go that far, since she doubted she make Salem do anything but get very angry and kill her. “Okay. So would you…er…fuck, marry, or kill Ruby Rose?” Emerald put her hands up defensively. “It’s just a silly game. Your, ah, sexual preference doesn’t matter. In fact, that’s part of the fun of it.”

Salem smirked. “Emerald Sustrai, I am thousands of years old. I have slept with every manner of humans and Faunus in this word, no matter what gender.” She shrugged. “I suppose I’m more or less…straight, is that the term? I do prefer the company of men. But I have been with females, and those who are neither male and female, or both. It truly just depends on who wanders into my realm, and what I feel like that day.” Emerald suddenly knew what a slab of beef felt like, as she felt Salem’s eyes stripping her to the skin. She shivered in remembrance, because while she’d never slept with the Grimm Queen, Salem had cast an orgasm spell on her for amusement. Twice. 

Salem watched Emerald get uncomfortable for a moment, chuckled to herself, then regarded the image of Ruby Rose. So much like her mother. “Kill,” Salem said finally. She wasn’t going to mention why. Silver eyes were the one thing on Remnant that Salem feared. 

Emerald looked at Ruby. She never really hated the leader of Team RWBY; in fact, she’d felt a bit sorry for her. “Marry.”

“Why?” Salem asked.

“Well, she’s naïve as hell, but she’s dependable. I think she’d make someone a good wife.”

“I can’t think of anyone who would—“ Salem soured. Ozma’s current host was someone who thought that. Salem still smarted from that particular embarassment. Well, Ruby Rose would get hers. “Very well. Who is next?”

“I suppose we’ll just go down the list.” Emerald dissolved the figure of Ruby, and replaced it with Weiss Schnee. She looked at Salem, who deferred to her. “Marry. The Schnees are rich as hell.”

“Kill. Weiss Schnee is as frosty as the rest of her accursed family. Next.”

Weiss’ form became Blake Belladonna. Emerald looked at Salem, who regarded the Faunus girl for a moment. “Kill.”

“Um, Mistress Salem…I don't think you're getting into the spirit of things.”

“What?” Salem protested. “Kill! I could only stand her whining for so long, not even enough to have sex with her.” She stuck her fingers up on the crown of her head, next to her braids, like cat ears. “’Wah, wah, Faunus are discriminated against! Nobody likes me because I’m Faunus!’ Bah.”

“I could handle it.” Emerald actually found Blake pretty attractive. She wasn’t sure if it was the black hair—Emerald _did_ like brunettes—or the slim figure. “Fuck.” She waved a hand, and Blake became Yang Xiao Long.

Emerald expected Salem to say that she’d kill Yang too, but to her surprise, Salem smiled. “Oh, yes. Fuck. No question. Those breasts, that figure…and I must admit a small weakness for blondes.”

Emerald gave this one some thought. “Kill. She’s too dangerous to try to take to bed.”

Salem shrugged. “That's the fun of it, but your point is taken. Next, please.” This was proving rather amusing.

“How about Team JNPR?” Emerald corrected herself. “I mean, Team JNR. The P isn’t there anymore.” That and, deep down, Emerald had felt sorry for Pyrrha Nikos. She wasn’t sad that Pyrrha had lost, or that Cinder had beaten her, but Pyrrha had always seemed so sad. One part of Emerald wished Pyrrha was still alive.

“Not at the moment,” Salem said cryptically, and waved her hand for Emerald to continue. Yang became Jaune Arc. “Ah, our first male of the species.” She nodded. “Fuck.”

Emerald had guessed that one. “You know, I agree. Fuck. Not good enough to marry, but I don’t really want to kill him, either.”

Salem grinned. “We are in agreement then.” Jaune was replaced by Nora Valkyrie. “Kill,” Salem said after a moment. “That damned hammer of hers. And other reasons,” she added darkly. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Emerald didn’t know what _that_ was all about, but nodded. “Yeah, kill.” She’d never liked Nora. Too loud, too dumb, and too damn good with that hammer. She dissolved Nora, and replaced her with Lie Ren.

“Marry,” Salem said instantly.

“Really?” the former thief asked.

“Oh, certainly. He is calming, attractive, and has…ah…staying power.” To Emerald’s stunned surprise, the undead witch actually blushed. She didn’t know what that was about either. 

“Well,” Emerald said, “I’d fuck him, but I wouldn’t marry him.” She raised her hands to create another image, but hesitated. “That’s the people from Beacon. Unless you want me to get the professors.” She was half-afraid of what Salem would say about Professor Ozpin, or Oobleck. Or worse, Port.

“Skip those,” Salem said. She had no desire to reopen old wounds when it came to Ozpin. She laughed softly. “Perhaps something closer to home, as it were?”

Emerald nodded and conjured an image of General James Ironwood. “Not what I meant,” Salem corrected, “but since he’s here…hmm.” She nodded. “Fuck. I want to know if his wood is iron.” She laughed at her pun. Emerald laughed politely. _Dammit, Salem,_ she thought. She wasn’t big on puns. “What would you do?” Salem asked.

“I don’t know. I guess…kill. I just don’t think I could marry him, and I don’t want to fuck someone old enough to be my father.”

“Don’t be afraid of older men,” Salem advised. “There is very little about pleasing a woman that they don’t know.” She waved Emerald’s hands down, and did some spellcasting of her own. Neo Politan appeared on the table. 

“Kill,” Emerald said, without hesitation on her part this time. “She’s a nutcase.”

“Agreed. Kill,” Salem pronounced. “You could not trust her, although her illusion ability has possibilities.” To the other girl’s surprise, Neo became Hazel Rainart. She looked at Salem, who smiled and shrugged. “Out of curiosity.”

“Well…” Emerald wasn’t sure about playing the game with someone she saw on a daily basis. “I guess I’d marry him. He’s sad a lot, and he mopes around all the time, but he’s dependable.”

“It would get to me after awhile, so I would merely fuck him.” By her tone, Emerald wondered if Salem already _had._ She jumped as Hazel was replaced by Tyrian Callows.

“Mistress Salem, before I answer…” Emerald began.

“Everything is strictly confidential, Emerald.” Salem waved a hand. “A spell of silence has been placed on the room. No Seer Grimm will record, and no one could eavesdrop.”

“In that case, kill. No offense, Mistress, but Tyrian’s crazier than a shithouse rat.”

Salem tittered. “None taken, my dear. And I agree. Kill.”

_Uh oh,_ Emerald thought. _I think Tyrian just became expendable._ Not surprisingly, Arthur Watts was next. “Well…” She had to think about that one. “I guess marry. I don’t trust him, but he’s crazy smart. I think he’d be a good partner.”

“Kill,” Salem said, without elaborating. Arthur Watts’ smirk was replaced by Mercury Black’s. Emerald wondered if this was a test, so she looked at Salem. The witch considered and gave a short nod. “Fuck. Mercury has his issues, but I see no reason to kill him.”

That helped only a little. Mercury was definitely not the marrying type, but Emerald actually liked him; he’d even defended her against Tyrian’s bullying. “I’d fuck him.” 

Salem raised a playful eyebrow. “Have you?”

“That’s against the rules of the game,” Emerald insisted, though she wasn’t really sure if that was true.

Now it was Salem who put up her hands. “Very well. A lady never tells.” She tapped her finger against her chin. Emerald swallowed nervously; she had a feeling who was next.

Sure enough, it was Cinder Fall. Emerald felt her heart skip a beat. She actually _did_ love Cinder, in a way that still confused her. And unlike Mercury, she had indeed slept with Cinder. The Fall Maiden, Emerald was sure, only saw the thief as amusement, but Emerald had formed an attachment with Cinder that went beyond friends with benefits. That said, Cinder wasn’t exactly wife material, and she was probably dead anyway. “F-Fuck,” Emerald stammered.

“Hmm,” Salem mused. “Yes, I suppose I would as well.” She had been about to say _kill,_ because Salem was none too pleased with Ms. Fall. But that would not only upset Emerald, it might show her hand. Salem was fairly certain that the Fall Maiden still lived, but Emerald didn’t need to know that—yet. Salem quickly made Cinder disappear, and to Emerald’s surprise—she’d almost expected Jacques Schnee or that little twerp Oscar Pine—it was Salem herself who stood atop the table. The real article watched Emerald, quite entertained. “Be honest,” she said.

Emerald regretted starting this game. If she answered _kill,_ she was pretty sure Salem would throw her out the window, then bounce her off a mountain or two before drowning her in the Grimm Pools. If she answered _marry,_ that would be a lie, and Salem might be offended, no matter how honest she supposedly wanted the thief to be. There was no other option, and it was kind of the truth anyway. “Fuck,” Emerald asked.

Salem fanned herself. “Oh, oh my! But it’s all so sudden, Emerald!” She cackled. “That’s perfectly fine, my dear. I’d fuck me too.” Emerald burst into laughter, and Salem did the same, thumping the table with a hand. “This is a fun game!” Salem remarked. “But I’m afraid we’d better end it, before we end up talking about Jacques or Willow Schnee or the Belladonnas or something.”

“Sure.” Emerald felt better about it. At least Salem could laugh at herself…a little, anyway. She got to her feet. “I guess I’d better get to work on dinner—“

Suddenly the illusion of Salem disappeared and Emerald found herself staring into her own eyes. Now it was Emerald Sustrai on the table. Salem sat up in her throne. “Well, Emerald? One more?”

Emerald looked down and snickered. “Marry, of course. I kind of like this Emerald chick.” She looked at Salem. _Please don’t say kill._

She’d actually expected _marry_ , with laughs behind it. Or even _fuck,_ with commentary on how cute Emerald was—commentary that wouldn’t be meant. Salem had more or less offered the night they’d done girl stuff, but that had devolved into a pillow fight, so Emerald regarded the whole thing as the witch just trying to see her reaction.

The illusion dissolved, and without even seeing her get up and move, Salem was suddenly standing next to Emerald. Alabaster, black-veined hands gently cupped Emerald’s face, and cool, pale lips met the thief’s. Emerald felt her heart go into overdrive and her hands, still at her sides, to shake. Salem drew back, the scarlet eyes glowing. “Fuck,” Salem whispered, and kissed her again. Emerald gave a start when she felt a warm—not cold—tongue slip between her lips. The fingers slipped from the thief’s face, down the tanned body, and under belt and waistband. They drifted over coarse curls and found Emerald’s folds. Emerald gasped under the kiss and went limp, the heat between her legs flaring. Her hands came up and gripped at the black cloak. Lust exploded behind her eyes: she didn’t care if Salem was her boss, immortal, undead, a witch, or anything else. She simply wanted to be consumed by her. 

Salem suddenly broke the kiss. “A shame I don’t fish in the company pond.” Her fingers withdrew, and she brushed past a very flustered Emerald, giving her a light slap on the posterior. “Dinner awaits, my dear.”

Emerald stood there, stunned, caught between the ecstasy promised a second before and the agony of denial. “But…” She turned to look at the grinning witch in the doorway. 

“Excuse me,” Salem said. “I should have said…I don’t _often_ fish in the company pond.” She pointed a finger at Emerald, who suddenly dropped to her knees as the orgasm spell hit her. She rolled over to one side, unable to do more than pant and grit her teeth, trying not to moan loudly. “I couldn’t just leave you hanging,” Salem told her. “But another time, Emerald Sustrai, when we next want to play…a game.” Then she was gone through the large doors.

Once Emerald had gotten her breath back, she slowly climbed to her feet, using the chair. “Fuck,” she said shakily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may write Salem as a harried, frustrated, occasionally drunk and occasionally voyeuristic character, but she's still evil. Poor Emerald--in way over her head. 
> 
> Keep those suggestions coming along! I'll keep writing as long as you folks keep giving me ideas.


	46. Dream a Little Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Ilia Amitola's birthday, but she's lonely. Even though her new friends threw her a birthday party, there was no Blake Belladonna there, so Ilia's depressed. She goes to sleep, but then finds Yang Xiao Long knocking on her door.
> 
> Wait. Yang?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was actually inspired by reading a bit about Ilia as background for "On RWBY Wings," and realizing I hadn't done anything with Ms. Amitola. So here you go, Ilia fans. 
> 
> This chapter assumes that Ilia ends up going to Haven Academy to start her own Huntress training. The "rabbit Faunus" mentioned shows up very briefly at the Battle of Haven. A friendly look between her and Ilia has led the FNDM to ship these two, so I will as well. I did have to make up a name for her, though.

Ilia Amitola lay on her bed in the dorm room at Haven Academy. She was both exhausted—she’d been up for over 24 hours—and she was depressed.

She supposed she shouldn’t be the latter, anyway. The room was small, but it was hers, and it represented the first time she’d ever had her own place. True, most of what was in the room belonged to the Academy, but the rest was hers. When she was growing up in the orphanage after her parents died, anything she owned was communal at best and stolen at worst. Her few personal items she left with Blake Belladonna, so that they wouldn’t be stolen too. Among the White Fang, there was no privacy, and she could be either sharing a temporary barracks with a dozen other people, or sleeping on the cold ground. This was the most luxurious place she’d ever had, and she cherished it, and the second chance it represented.

But she was still lonely. And today was her birthday.

Ilia sighed. Her new friends at Haven had thrown her a birthday party, and Team SSSN, visiting from Vacuo, had joined in the festivities. She was happy enough at that, despite being so tired, but when she came home—leaving the party to drunkenly continue without her--it was to an empty dorm room. She really wished there was someone here to share the narrow bed with. There was that rabbit Faunus she had met, who had given Ilia some signals that she wouldn’t be adverse to hooking up, but Ilia had to admit it: the person she wanted was the person she could never have.

Blake Belladonna.

Ilia lay back in bed and closed her eyes. Even though Blake had made it clear when they’d parted that they were best friends, but _only_ friends, Ilia still found herself pining away for her childhood playmate. Blake had grown into a beautiful young woman, and as much as Ilia told herself she was a fool to even think of her friend like that, she wanted Blake like a starving person wanted food. But Blake was not gay—though there were rumors that she and that Yang Xiao Long girl were more than friends, which made Ilia’s own pain worse. And even if she was bisexual, Blake simply did not want Ilia. 

_I should be over this,_ Ilia thought. _How come I’m not? I know Blake loves me like a friend, and I would never jeopardize that friendship. Being lovers would do that, I guess. And then there’s the fact that I sort of tried to kill her…gods, I was so blind and stupid._ She turned over and switched off the lamp, then snuggled into her pillow. _Okay, Ilia. Get some sleep. Don’t think about Blake._ Too many times, thinking about Blake had led to thinking about Blake naked, and that ended up with Ilia’s pajama pants on the floor and her fingers between her legs. She was grateful as she felt sleep slowly stealing into her consciousness. 

It felt like she’d only been asleep a few minutes when there was a knocking at the door. Ilia tried to go back to sleep, but it continued. She groaned, threw off the covers, and stumbled to the door, flinging it open. “What?” she demanded blearily, half-asleep and grumpy.

Then her jaw dropped. It was Yang Xiao Long. 

“Oh…hey,” Ilia said.

“Hi,” Yang said back. “Can I come in?”

“I…guess?” Ilia stepped aside, and could not stifle a yawn. What was Yang doing here? She didn’t know the blonde brawler very well, only that she was another member of Team RWBY, Blake’s _other_ best friend, and possible lover. She checked her arms, and was relieved to see her skin was its normal tan color. Sometimes without her meaning to, her skin would change colors according to her mood. She didn’t want Yang to know she was jealous. Yang nearly tripped and fell as she came in, which was also odd, and kicked the door shut behind her. 

Ilia was still sorting out her feelings when Yang suddenly and tenderly kissed her. Her skin shifted blue, in utter shock. When Yang let her up for air, Ilia stuttered, “Y-Yang? W-What—“

“Shhh.” The other girl’s rough hands came up and smoothed back Ilia’s bangs. She kissed Ilia again. The hands slid down her sides and then came up through the silk pajama top she wore, to find Ilia’s small breasts. To her consternation, her nipples hardened under Yang’s touch. 

_What’s going on?_ Ilia thought in panic. _Why’s she here? Is Yang a lesbian too? I mean, that explains…no, it doesn’t! Why is she…ooohh, why is she doing that with my nipples? They’re not radio knobs, you…why am I letting her? What’s wrong with me?_ Ilia blinked. _Why is this totally turning me on? And is she…she’s…_ Her thoughts got a little jumbled after that, as Yang lowered her head to Ilia’s breasts and began licking at a nipple. Ilia could not resist a long, soft moan. She was no virgin, but it had been awhile. A long while.

“Sorry…I’m a little tipsy…” Yang murmured, then began working on the other nipple.

“That’s…okay…” She supposed she should offer to return the favor, but her head was swimming in a sea of lust, and the tide was coming in. While Yang’s tongue continued to work on her breasts—now rimming the dark nipples—Ilia felt the other girl’s hands pulling down both bottoms and panties. 

“We shouldn’t do this,” Ilia gasped “It’s not…”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Ilia hesitated. It wasn’t right. If Yang was drunk, she was not in her right mind. And if Yang was Blake’s lover, then she should be devoted to Blake, not playing the field. Finally, Yang was a human, and humans and Faunus didn’t mix. The White Fang had always said that loving a human always ended badly, and Faunus were never equal partners in the relationship—

Ilia stopped those last thoughts. That was Sienna Khan’s rhetoric. That was Adam Taurus’. And those were lies.

She stepped out of the pajama bottoms and her underwear. “No,” she said with a smile. If Yang was here, it had to be with Blake’s permission. A wide-awake Ilia would realize the remarkably poor logic in that conclusion, but Ilia was still half-asleep, and not entirely convinced this wasn’t a dream. She leaned back on the bed, nestled herself into a pillow, and opened herself up. Yang smiled at her, and lowered her face to Ilia’s nether lips. Ilia gripped her breasts and closed her eyes as she felt a tongue there, gently prying her open…

And she awoke, sitting bolt upright, breathing hard. “What…what the hell?” She leaned forward and took in deep breaths. “Whoa.” She blinked the sleep out of her eyes. _Wow. That was some dream._ She brought her head up, then laughed softly, at herself. _Heh. Well, well, little Ilia. I guess you_ did _find that big-boobed blonde attractive after all. Well, why not? Yang_ is _pretty. And it was just a stupid dream._ She looked down. Her pajama top was on, draped off her shoulders, disheveled undoubtedly because she’d been moving around in her dream. Through the blue silk, she could see the peaks of her still-erect nipples poking through. _Damn. Now I wish I hadn’t woken up. I don’t care if it_ was _Yang._

Ilia shivered. It was cold in the room, though that did not account for her nipples doing their best impression of pencil erasers. She got up to shut the window, felt a distinct draft below the belt, and suddenly realized why she was so cold. She looked down. 

Her pajama bottoms were gone. 

Ilia’s heart began to pound. _Okay, okay, think here, Ilia,_ she told herself. _You probably kicked them off while you were asleep. Except you can’t actually do that._ She massaged her eyes and groaned. _Well, that’s awesome, Amitola. Now you’re jilling off in your sleep. All those years of White Fang training, and you_ still _haven’t learned self-control._ Shaking her head in self-disgust, Ilia padded over and shut the window, turned around, and realized she was not alone. 

Curled up under the covers next to where she had been was a body. A body topped by silver-white hair.

Ilia’s stomach did a flip, which was anatomically impossible, but it certainly felt like it. “Oh my gods,” she whispered aloud. “Weiss. Weiss Schnee.” She grabbed the dresser for support. 

Like a drowning person flailing for a life ring, Ilia tried to get her emotions under control. _Now this doesn’t make any damn sense! What’s Weiss doing here? She’s in Atlas, with…Yang. Okay, obviously I imagined Yang. I was asleep, it was a dream, and…and that’s Weiss Schnee right there. I screwed Weiss Schnee. The enemy of my peo—_ Ilia frowned. _Stop with the White Fang bullshit. Weiss isn’t your enemy. Her prick father, yes, but not Weiss. Blake likes Weiss and trusts her with her life, so Weiss is not my enemy._ She hugged herself. _But I still slept with Weiss Frigging Schnee!_

Ilia hesitantly stepped towards the bed. _Maybe we didn’t have sex. Maybe she like came in and passed out or something…but she wasn’t at the party, and why would she even be here…but yeah, maybe…_ Her fingers shaking, Ilia reached down and ran a finger over herself. Her labia felt damp, which was no surprise, but her pubic mound felt damp too. _I get pretty wet when I’m turned on, but not_ that _wet! Which means…_ Ilia nearly fell. _Oh gods. Weiss Schnee ate me out. I was imagining her as Yang?_ She shook her head. _No. No way. There’s no way a prissy, stuck-up damn Schnee can use a tongue like that. This can’t be real. This has to be a—_

Ilia’s eyes snapped open. Through the blinds of the still-open window, sunlight streamed as dawn spread over Haven Academy. She oriented herself—one good thing about White Fang training; when Ilia needed to wake up in a hurry, she could. She actually felt kind of refreshed, and by the clock and the sunlight, she’d slept through the night. Even with the stupid dreams. Ilia looked down. The covers were just below her breasts, she was wearing her top, and her nipples were just barely visible through the sheer fabric. She wasn’t turned on, or even cold. She put her hands under the covers and…her pajama bottoms were gone. A quick glance over the side of the bed saw them piled on the floor with her panties. _Well, sleep masturbating is better than having sex with Weiss Schnee,_ Ilia mused. _I guess I can live with that. I don’t mind dreaming about Yang going down on me, but Weiss…no, not her._

 _Wait a second. Why am I over on_ this _side of the bed?_

Ilia closed her eyes, swallowed audibly, and put her left hand out. It fell on a warm body in the covers. She opened one eye and peeked. Not white hair. Blond hair. She squeezed her eye shut again, and pinched her own thigh, hard, enough to bring tears to her eyes. She wasn’t still asleep and dreaming. Slowly, she let out her breath. _All right. So the part with Yang was real. I can deal with that. I don’t care if she’s human, but we’ll have to talk about this. I don’t want to break Blake’s heart if the rumors are true._

Ilia opened both eyes, looked over. And screamed. The hair was blond, but it was cropped short, not puffed out. She only knew two people with cropped, blonde hair, and both were men. And since there was no way it could be that Jaune Arc guy, it had to be—

Sun Wukong turned over and half-opened his eyes. “Hey there, Ilia. G’morning…” Then his eyes flew completely open. “ _Ilia?!”_

Ilia leapt out of bed and flattened herself against the opposite wall, as if Sun was a rattlesnake. He did the same, against the other wall. Ilia screamed again, and pointed. The front of Sun’s boxers—which was all he wore—were distinctly and largely tented. “What in the gods’ name is _that?”_ she shrilled.

Sun looked down, let out an _eep_ , and covered himself. “Morning wood!” he yelled. “That’s all, I swear! I get it all the time!” Then he remembered Ilia’s sexual orientation, and thought that maybe she didn't know. “Guys get it all the time!” Then he blushed and looked away. If his morning wood was on display, Ilia was even _more_ on display, since she was naked below the waist. “Uh, Ilia…” She slid down the wall, burying her face in her knees. He glanced at her, and just as quickly began to inspect the ceiling. “I can still see you. Down there.”

“Then don’t look, you pervert!” Ilia almost faded from sight, using her chameleon ability to blend in with the wall’s wood paneling. She slid across the floor, grabbed her bottoms, and slipped them on; only then did she reappear. She also stood, and one hand fell on her Lightning Lash. Sun’s shoulder gave a brief twinge in remembered pain. Ilia had nearly killed him with that before, and by the homicidal look in her eyes, he had a feeling she was going to make _sure_ she killed him this time. “You’d better start talking, you bastard,” she snarled.

“I don’t remember. I don’t know what I’m even doing here!”

“Yeah, right!” The lash was in her hand now. “I’m going to kill you!”

Sun put out his hands. “No, wait, Ilia! I swear! The last thing I remember was, I was at the party, and I was going to bed. I got pretty drunk, I guess. And I got to my room, but couldn’t get it open, so I knocked, and that cute rabbit Faunus at the party let me in, and I said ‘what the hell’ and started seducing her, and she was all for it and said yes and…please, Ilia. Put that thing down. I don’t want to die.”

Ilia was sorely tempted to use the lash to electrocute Sun until he was a smoking pile of ashes. But then she stopped herself. Sun had been drunk, she’d been half-asleep, and neither therefore had been entirely in their right mind. And she _had_ been the one to step out of her panties and let her—him—go down on her. He’d just thought in a drunken haze that she’d been that rabbit Faunus, and she’d thought in her exhausted stupor that he was Yang. Besides, if she murdered Sun, that would probably bring her burgeoning career at Haven to an abrupt halt. 

She put the lash back down on the endtable, walked to the bed, and sat down. He did the same. Both rolled into the bed, putting their feet up, and crossing their arms across their respective chests. Ilia involuntarily glanced at his crotch. Sun’s erection was gone; being threatened with a painful screaming death had a way of doing that. 

“I’m sorry,” he said into the silence. “I blew it, Ilia. Big time. You’ve got every right to be angry. You’ve got every right to turn me in for barging in here and taking advantage of you.”

Ilia traced patterns in the bedsheets. “I won’t do that, Sun,” she said in a quiet voice. “I wasn’t exactly fighting you off. I thought you were…” She sighed. “I was so sleepy I thought you were Yang.”

“Yang? Yang Xiao Long?” Sun chuckled. “I guess I should be flattered.”

She leaned back and looked at the ceiling. “So. I guess…I guess I’ve had sex with a boy.”

“I…don’t think we did that. I don’t remember it. I _think_ I’d remember that.”

Ilia reconsidered. She’d probably remember it too. The last thing she remembered was Yang—or Sun, she supposed—using his tongue on her. But what if she’d fallen asleep right after that? “Sun…do you remember…licking me…you know…down there?” She pointed in the general direction of her crotch. 

Sun thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. That was the last thing I remember. No, wait. I did get up to use the can in the middle of the night. I usually just sleep with my skivvies on, so I must’ve gotten undressed then, too.” He checked on his side of the bed, and sure enough, his clothes were strewn around there.

Ilia got up and looked in the room’s tiny bathroom. The seat was up. She came back and fell on the bed. “That’s exactly what happened. You must have passed out…between my legs.” She felt disgusted, then she smiled. Then she snorted, and began to laugh. “Oh, gods, Sun.”

“It’s not funny,” he grumped. Sun was, in truth, disgusted with himself. He’d never gotten _that_ drunk before, and dammit, his pride was at stake. He might not have realized it was Ilia Amitola, but he didn’t like to leave a job unfinished. 

“Yeah, it is,” she tittered. “All the girls talk about Sun Wukong and what a great lover he is. And he passes out before he can even get started.”

“I can always finish what I started,” Sun said.

Ilia’s smile faded. That was something to think about, too. She’d thought it was Yang licking her, but it had been Sun the whole time, and he most certainly had gotten her motor running. And if he hadn’t passed out, there was no question he _would_ have finished what he started. And she would’ve happily let him. She looked at him. He was resting on his side now, head on the pillow. Her eyes traced the hard muscles in the arms and legs, the chest and abs that made him look like an artist’s model. His tail looped upwards, in a curl, reminding Ilia of her own hair. The invitation was there, waiting. All she had to do was say yes. 

She turned over on her side, facing him, and smiled. “No, Sun. The only girls that don’t find you at least somewhat attractive are dead, and while I can admire you…” Ilia sighed. “I don’t want you. I can admire you like I admire a good painting, but I don’t want to have sex with you. Despite what happened last night. I like girls, and that’s how I'll always be.”

“I can respect that. Even if you are cute as hell.” He smiled back, sadly. “I’m really sorry, Ilia.”

“I am too, and thanks for the compliment. But let’s not worry about it.”

He got up and started dressing. “I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me.” He sniffed. “A lot of that going around these days. Man, I am making an art form out of screwing up.”

“Sun,” Ilia said, “I wasted a good portion of my life hating. I’m through with that.” She slid off the bed and helped him adjust his collar. “I _will_ say that if you mention any of this to anyone, I will lash your dick off.”

“Got it.” He grinned. “Never thought I would wish I was a girl.”

She giggled. “I never thought I’d wish you were a girl either. But we are who we are.” 

“Yep.” He put out his arms for a hug. “Friends?”

“Of course.” She hugged him. Sun _was_ a friend, and she needed all of those she could get. Even if they were boneheaded at times. She then showed him out the door. 

Sun looked over his shoulder. “I’ll make this up to you, Ilia. I swear.”

She nodded. “Like I said, don’t worry about it.” Ilia shut the door, and returned to the bed. “Well, that was different.” A strand of hair had fallen across her face, and Ilia blew it back into place. “What a night. At least I don’t have class today, which means…” She reached down and pulled off her underwear, then tossed away her pajama tops. “ _I_ need to finish what _someone_ started.” Ilia leaned back on her pillow and closed her eyes. _All right, let’s build this fantasy. Blake…or Yang? That might not be so bad after all._ She frowned. _Definitely not Weiss though. Errgh._

Before she could get started, there was a knock at the door.

“Not again.” Ilia didn’t wait for it to go away; she’d been through _that_ already. She quickly got a towel from the bathroom and wrapped it around herself. Then she opened the door, telling herself that if it was Sun again, she would not lose her temper. After all, he accepted who she was; he’d probably just left something.

It was not Sun, but the cute bunny Faunus with the short brown hair. She was wearing it in a ponytail these days, which explained why Sun had drunkenly mistaken Ilia for her. “Uh, hi,” the Faunus girl said. “I, uh…I ran into Sun Wukong. He said you might want to talk to me. And since we don’t have class today.” The girl’s ears flattened backwards in embarassment. “I’m Mariko.”

“Ilia.”

“I know. I mean…everyone knows.”

Ilia looked down, her skin turning darker with her own embarrassment. “Because of the White Fang.”

“No…because you _fought_ the White Fang. You helped save Haven.”

Ilia felt tears in her eyes again, and it wasn’t because she was pinching herself. “Thanks.” She looked up. Mariko had rather pretty eyes. “I…uh…let me hop in the shower, and then we can go grab some lunch or something?” She made it a question. 

Mariko blushed, her ears still flat. She couldn’t meet Ilia’s gaze. “S-Sure. I think I’d like that.”

“I’ll be just a minute.” Ilia closed the door, then pinched herself. _Awesome. Not a dream this time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit the premise of this is a little flimsy, but I'm not going for a Hugo Award here. I can tell you, with a personal record of being up for 34 straight hours--you *can* start hallucinating after awhile. I did that at an anime convention, and I have memories of conversations that my friends insist did not happen. 
> 
> Poor Sun. He's become the butt monkey for my scenarios lately. Oh well--he got to seduce Salem in "Sunshine and Summertime," so he's got no room to complain.
> 
> And I did think about Ilia inviting in Mariko to join her in the shower...but thought that would make Ilia a little too forward. She doesn't know this girl, and while there's some mutual attraction there, Ilia isn't the type to just hop in bed with someone who's little more than a stranger. So they're friends...for now. I also wanted to make sure that Ilia didn't accept Sun's invitation. Just because Yang and Blake are bi doesn't mean Ilia needs to be. I thought that would be wrong for the character as well. I really do hope Ilia shows up in future RWBY seasons. While she did take too damn long to leave the White Fang, I'd like to see her get more screen time.


	47. Ball and Chain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taiyang Xiao Long is on his fourth date with Cinder Fall. Are they falling in love? Will either reveal their true selves? Will Cinder turn away from her life of evil, or will she seduce Tai to the dark side?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was hard to write, at first. I started off with my planned Ironwood/Goodwitch chapter, but it wasn't happening. Then I tried my next installment of Rosegarden weirdness. Still nope. But then I remembered BrotherBobbyB's suggestion, as well as AndRavenSays'. And this fic came together just like that. 
> 
> It's a sequel to Chapter 42 ("Love Machine"), and the end result of a RWBY Chibi episode, which is pretty disturbing, actually. And it was actually tough not to make this fic rather sad (Tai and Cinder probably can never work things out) or too romantic (damn, Cinder!). Luckily, the comedy does show up, never fear.
> 
> This will be the last chapter for about a week or so. I'm going to have to take a break to go across country and help a buddy get moved in for college.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Taiyang Xiao Long asked. “I mean, we can always go out. Town’s about three miles, but we could drive.”

“Oh, no! This is fine. Thank you.” In truth, Cinder Fall did not want to drive with Taiyang ever again. He had picked her up at Patch’s small airport, and driven her out to his rustic, quaint, two-story cabin house. However, Tai’s driving skills left something to be desired. Cinder had thought herself absolutely fearless, but not even Salem had made her ever come so close to wetting her pants in utter fright.

It was their fourth date. They had met in Vale two more times after their initial one-night stand, and then Tai had invited Cinder to stay the weekend. It was a step forward in their relationship—one that Cinder was not sure about. The fact that Tai was significantly older than she was made little difference; the fact that she was the center of a rather evil plan to destroy Beacon, kill Ozpin, and take the remaining power of the comatose Fall Maiden made _all_ the difference. Cinder felt herself getting close to Tai, and it frightened her…and allured her. She was comfortable being evil: in the flames of her former life, she had been reborn by the power of Salem, and the thrill of power was better than sex for her.

At least until she’d met Taiyang Xiao Long, of course.

Every time they had met, even when they had tried not to, they’d ended up in bed. Cinder was no virgin when they’d met, of course, but for her, sex was something she was forced to endure, or a pleasant way to pass an hour, but no more important than scratching an itch. She had several men and a few women, but Tai was the first to treat her as an equal, and—in his own, quiet way—demand she do the same. She’d willingly complied, and had known the glow of true satisfaction. _I can’t fall in love with this man,_ she told herself for the hundredth time. _He’ll learn the plan. He’ll learn that his daughters could potentially stand in my way._

Cinder found herself hoping that Team RWBY would be far away when Beacon fell. Three weeks before, she would’ve happily burned Yang Xiao Long and Ruby Rose into ashes. Now she wasn’t sure she could even face the daughters of this man in battle. 

And if Salem should learn about their secret relationship…

Tai, for his part, was also trying not to see Cinder as a potential third wife. He’d been down that road, twice. Raven Branwen had left him with a newborn Yang, and had never returned—as far as he knew, though he strongly suspected she checked in on her former family in her bird form on occasion. Summer Rose, the truly devoted wife and mother, had died, leaving him with two confused young daughters. He’d raised Yang and Ruby, and raised them well, with some help from his brother-in-law Qrow. It had been the latter that had talked him into going back into the dating scene, but only to maybe meet someone he could be friends with—and, as Qrow had so crudely put it, get laid now and then. Well, now he’d met someone he could do both with, but with Cinder, it wasn’t just sex, but love, a tender lovemaking he’d dearly missed since Summer had gone. He knew there was more to her than met the eye, but he was content—for now—to let her secrets stay that way. He didn’t want to fall in love with her either, but also knew he had a bad tendency to do that with women he cared about.

And if Yang and Ruby should learn that he was sleeping with someone just a year or two older than Yang was…

He put those thoughts away and opened the small stove, pulling out the night’s main dish. “I, uh…hope you like meat loaf.”

“Meat loaf?” Cinder raised an eyebrow.

“Bacon-wrapped meat loaf,” he amended. Her eyes lit up. Cinder would and had killed people for bacon.

He let it cool while he fixed a tossed salad, then served both with a fine Mistrali wine. They toasted each other and fell to eating. Tai noticed that Cinder ate rather properly, using knife and fork the way one should, carefully placing them aside: he wondered if she came from a rich family. He came from Patch farmers, so he wolfed the food down, finishing his plate before she was halfway through hers. Cinder didn’t seem offended, though. Tai remembered Raven eating like someone was going to take the food away from her; not surprising, since Raven had known what it was like to go hungry. Summer scarfed food down because she was a sloppy eater. “How is it?” he asked.

“Excellent.” Cinder raised her wineglass and toasted him. “I’ve never had this dish.”

“Oh, it’s an old receipe of my grandmother’s.”

“She is to be commended.”

“Sorry the wine’s kinda cheap.”

Cinder shrugged. “I didn’t come here to be wined and dined with the elite. I came here to be with you.” She blushed after she said it, because it had been honest. Cinder Fall was not used to honesty, much less in herself.

He waited patiently until she was finished, sipping his wine, then poured another glass for both. They went to the living room, where he told her about his time at Beacon—careful to leave out the details on Team STRQ, as much of their activity was classified. Cinder, for her part, gave Tai a sanitized version of her own past. Both let slip a little more than they had intended: Tai mentioned Summer's silver eyes, while Cinder admitted to far more knowledge of the Maidens than anyone should know. Tai knew the Maidens existed; Cinder realized that Tai had been part of Team STRQ, which Salem had identified as one of her greatest foes. But neither wanted to ruin the moment.

As they talked, both started remembering the _other_ reason they were spending the weekend together. Tai found himself visually tracing the curves of Cinder’s full breasts under the red dress she wore, the same outfit she’d worn on their first date. Cinder found her eyes going to his crotch, under the cargo pants. More wine was consumed because their mouths were starting to get dry. Finally, Tai could stand it no longer. “Well,” he said, “would you like to repair to the bedroom?”

Cinder smiled smokily. “I thought you would never ask.” She held out her arms. “Carry me?”

“You just like me to show off my muscles,” Tai laughed.

“This is true.” 

He easily picked her up, but instead of carrying her like a bride over the threshold, Tai playfully threw Cinder over his shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes. She screamed in surprise, then laughed, taking the opportunity to fondle his rear as he carried her up the stairs. Tai paused at the bedroom door, remembering that the last woman he’d carried in there, made love to in there, was Summer. 

_It’s okay, Tai,_ he thought he heard her say. _I’m gone. You must keep going. Please live for me, my love._

Tai sighed, then opened the door and gently set Cinder down. She saw the emotions on his face, then the large bed—too large for even him. The décor was rustic, like the house, but it showed the touch of a wife. “Are you sure you want to do this in here?” Cinder asked gently.

“I…I don’t know.” Then he took a deep breath. Raven was gone. Summer was dead. There was no reason not to.

“We don’t have to,” she said with a tenderness that even surprised Cinder.

“No…it’s all right.”

Cinder smiled, then gently pushed him onto the bed. She turned, closed the door and locked it, and held up a hand for silence. Then she started gently swaying, as if to music.

She undressed. First she stepped out of her shoes, moving them backwards one at a time. Then, with agonizing slowness, she unlaced the top of the dress, slowly sliding out of it and letting it fall barely an inch a minute. She reached down and pulled off her ankle bracelet. Then the ribbon at her throat. Then she slowly took off her underwear, unclasping the black bra and letting it fall away, and slowly peeled down the panties. After nearly half an hour, Cinder Fall stood before him, completely naked.

“Wow,” Tai croaked. He was so hard it hurt. 

She stepped to him, helped him pull off his shirt, then his shorts and underwear, careful to just barely touch him. Once he was naked as well, she pushed him back onto the bed, and used her fingers to trace the contours of his muscles, ignoring his straining erection. “Cinder,” he whispered, suddenly realizing she hadn’t said anything since she’d closed the door.

“Shhh. Let me do all the work, lover.”

“You’d better hurry up,” he begged. Tai hadn’t felt this ready to burst since he’d been a teenager, seduced by a local older woman he’d caught skinny-dipping in the local cove. 

“Too stimulating? Aww, too bad.” Cinder gave him a smoldering look—quite literally, since her eyes were beginning to glow. She lowered her head to his chest and licked one of his nipples. Tai couldn’t stop a groan.

And then it all fell apart.

The room, which had been lit only by the shattered moon, suddenly suffused blood red. With a rush of displaced air, a portal appeared in a swirl of crimson, and to Tai’s complete and utter surprise, Raven Branwen, in full armor with sword at her hip, stepped through. The portal instantly closed behind her. “Tai, we must talk—“

Then Raven realized several things in succession. First, Tai was naked. Second, he wasn’t alone. Third, the person he was with was also naked. Fourth, the person was a female not named Raven Branwen or Summer Rose. Fifth, the aforementioned female was Cinder Fall. Raven knew about Cinder, though only by reputation; they’d never met, but Raven knew that Cinder worked for Salem. 

All three stared popeyed at each other. Raven broke the silence first. “What…the…fuck?”

Next was Tai. “Raven, what the hell are you doing here?”

Finally, Cinder found her voice. Or rather, her flames. She leapt out of the bed—since she didn’t want to fry Tai’s best sheets—and fireballs appeared in both hands. “Raven Branwen, you _bitch!”_

Raven took a step back, her fingers dropping to Omen’s hilt. “Cinder Fall. What nefarious bullshit are _you_ up to?” Cinder slid one foot forward; Omen came one inch out of the scabbard.

Tai stood up. “Whoa, whoa, _stop!_ Both of you! You are not having a fight in this house, and not in my damn bedroom!”

“True,” Raven agreed. “Let’s step outside, Cinder. I’d hate to fuck up _our_ bedroom.”

“Ha!” Cinder laughed derisively. “It stopped being your bedroom when you abandoned this poor man, you slut!”

“One more word,” Raven snarled, “and I’m going to ruin Summer’s bedsheets with your blood.”

“I said stop!” Tai stepped in between them. His muscular, nude form temporarily distracted both ladies, which was what he’d been counting on. “No one’s fighting! Raven, what are you _doing_ here?”

“I came to talk about Yang,” Raven said, looking past him. “And then I find you here getting ready to bang the Fall Maiden.”

Tai stopped and looked at Cinder. For a moment, she seemed to wilt, but then stood up straight; her nudity only enhanced her defiance. “So what if I am? So what if I am the Fall Maiden, and I’m going to make love to your _ex-_ husband? You left him, Raven. And Summer, poor thing, is dead. Is Taiyang not supposed to be happy, ever again? Is he not to know the touch of a woman who lo—likes him a great deal?” Cinder caught herself just in time.

“He doesn’t know what a piece of shit _you_ are, Cinder,” Raven hissed.

“He doesn’t care!” Cinder stepped forward and put a proprietary hand on Tai’s shoulder. “He doesn’t care about my past. I don’t care about his. All I know he’s a good man, and while I may be a piece of shit, he treats me like I’m the good woman I’m not!” Cinder stabbed a finger at her. “Now go away! You don’t deserve him!”

Raven blinked in surprise. Then she smiled craftily. “I’ve forgotten more about men than you’ll ever know, Cinder.”

“That I can believe.”

Raven scowled at Cinder’s implication. She unbuckled Omen and knelt, setting it aside, though Tai knew his ex-wife could draw and kill in seconds if she wanted. Then, without warning, she suddenly seized hold of Tai’s half-hard member, lifted it up, and licked it from the base to the head. A flood of memories and not a small amount of lust went through Tai, and he was hard again very quickly. Raven kissed the tip. “I see _someone_ remembers,” she said.

“What the hell did you do that for?” Cinder demanded.

“I licked it,” Raven replied, standing. “Therefore it’s mine.”

Cinder snorted. “Before you showed up, I had him so turned on that if I’d so much as kissed him, he would’ve gone off like an Atlesian tundra geyser.”

“Bullshit,” Raven growled.

“Oh, it’s true. Tell her, Tai.” Cinder suddenly grabbed a double handful of Tai’s buttocks and squeezed. He nearly jumped into the ceiling; her hands were like branding irons. “He was _groaning._ ”

Raven glanced at Tai. He smiled sheepishly and nodded. She scowled. Tai had never groaned for _her._ Then again, she hadn’t exactly given him much chance to. Raven Branwen tended to believe that quantity had a quality all its own when it came to sex. “I see,” Raven said at length. “Then I see there is only one way to solve this.”

“Oh gods,” Tai groaned, knowing what was coming—no pun intended.

“First one to make him come wins?” Cinder asked, and smiled at Raven’s nod. “And the other gets dressed and leaves and _never_ comes back?”

“Bargained well and done.” As usual, Raven had forgotten all about Yang.

As Tai watched Raven strip for action, he knew that neither woman would be satisfied in victory. Probably the loser would accuse the winner of cheating, somehow, and eventually Cinder and Raven would fight, and probably one of them would die—likely Raven, if Cinder really _was_ the Fall Maiden. (Which was news to Tai, since he’d met Amber, the current Fall Maiden. Or was she?) To avoid blood being spilled and/or the house being destroyed, Tai knew he had only one chance.

Luckily, his Semblance wasn’t just being able to punch things really hard. It was also endurance.

He was reminded a moment later just how strong Raven was when she threw him onto the bed. “Okay, Cinder,” she said snidely, “which end do you want? Tai’s pretty virile; he might just knock you up.”

Cinder rolled her eyes. “It’s called contraception, Raven. Perhaps you should’ve looked into it. Then you wouldn’t be a deadbeat mom.”

“Deadbeat I may be,” Raven snapped back, “but mom I am, which means I know my way around Tai’s dick more than you do.” She held out a fist. Cinder nodded, understanding. They pounded their fists into the palm of open hands. Tai could not believe this: two beautiful, naked women were playing rock, paper, scissors for the right to screw him. Either he had the best luck on Remnant, or Qrow’s bad luck Semblance was contagious. 

Cinder chose paper. Raven chose scissors. “Ha!” Raven crowed. “Fuck you.”

“You’ll never go back to Grimm,” Cinder snarled back. 

“I wouldn’t know. That’s more your thing.” Raven climbed atop Tai and grinned down at him. “You remember how good I am at this, don’t you, Tai?”

The last thing on Remnant that Taiyang wanted to do was to have sex with his ex-wife, but his body had other ideas, especially when he began involuntarily comparing the two of them. Raven’s breasts were slightly larger than Cinder’s, and despite having a decade on the other woman, gravity had yet to touch them; while Cinder shaved her pubic mound, Raven let her curls grow somewhat wild. Both of them were gorgeous in their own way, and Tai hated himself for still loving Raven. She licked her lips, seized his erection, and guided it into her, sinking down all the way. “Mmm, yeah,” Raven said in satisfaction. “I can take _all_ of him. Ahh…I’ve missed this.”

Cinder stood next to the bed, hands on her hips. “I’m not surprised you can take all of him. Hot dog down a hallway.” Raven only laughed and began grinding herself against him.

_Dammit,_ Tai thought. _She’s still got it. She’s going to win, unless…_ He did his best to ignore Raven, reached out, and pulled Cinder towards him. “Don’t you want what you came for?” he asked.

Cinder understood. She winked over her shoulder at Raven and straddled Tai’s face, her back turned contemptously towards Raven. Tai’s tongue went to work, and Cinder gasped as tendrils of pure pleasure rolled upwards from her groin to her brain. 

Raven stopped for a moment as Cinder pushed herself against Tai’s tongue. Having Tai in her was turn-on enough, but the memory of that tongue and what he could do with it was even more so. Worse, watching Cinder undulate right in front of her was definitely erotic: Raven enjoyed the company of men and women herself, and Cinder was a knockout. 

Then Tai unleashed his secret weapon. While he thought of the names of weapons and anything but what and who he was doing, he began pounding into Raven for all he was worth. It was a race against time, one he had to win to save all their lives. Or at least the house.

The bedroom, which had been silent during Cinder’s seduction, was now filled with noise. Cinder was gasping and moaning, Raven forgotten, her world narrowed to wherever Tai’s tongue was at that moment. Tai abruptly remembered Raven’s other favorite pastime during lovemaking: cursing like a sailor. The author will spare the reader exactly what spilled from her lips, but it included several references to being pounded hard, waterlogged cats, being very full, Tai’s parents being unmarried and Tai himself having carnal relations with his own mother, and that Raven was going to come very, very hard. She wasn’t lying, but ironically, the sight that made Raven go over the top was Cinder’s eyes, which had been squeezed shut in ecstasy, suddenly opening, with flames trailing from them, and Cinder screaming Tai’s name to the heavens. Normally, simultaneous orgasms were usually a thing between a two people who loved each other very much, but in this case, it was two women who despised each other—which oddly made it more intense.

Cinder, twitching, fell over on one side of the bed. Raven collapsed onto Tai’s heaving chest. “Oh fuck,” Raven said breathlessly. “Oh shit. You’ve still got it, Tai. You’ve still fucking got it.”

“You’re…not…kidding,” Cinder puffed out. “Why…the hell…did you leave him?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Raven admitted. She slowly collapsed next to him, on the other side. “How do you do it?”

Tai smiled. “Practice.” Then he grimaced. He was still painfully erect. Raven noticed it the same time Cinder did. Both women lunged and got a hand on Tai at the same time. They glared at each other, and Tai wondered if he was going to end his days, torn apart by two strong-willed females. 

But then Cinder relaxed. “Let’s set aside things for now. He deserves it.”

Raven nodded. “I agree. On three?” Cinder returned the nod, and on the count of three, both Raven and Cinder began to use their hands. Tai did not last ten seconds before he went rigid and ejaculated. Raven took her hand away, not wanting to get any in her hair, but Cinder defiantly kept going until Tai finally stopped. “A tie?” Cinder offered.

“Hm. For now.” Raven snuggled up next to Tai. “Back in the dating scene, huh? Well, it’s about time, Tai.”

Cinder snuggled up on the other side. “We met on iRemnant.”

“Online dating? Well.” Raven kissed his shoulder. “You surprise me, Ta—“ Suddenly she stiffened. Tai turned his head to see what had happened, but then noticed Cinder was frozen as well. Both were glowing a faint purple.

A puff of black smoke announced the arrival of a third woman. Salem didn’t have to undress: she was already naked, her alabaster arms raised, fingers glowing purple. Her red eyes focused on Tai’s groin, and he felt magic playing across it as he started becoming erect again. 

“My turn,” Salem grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taiyang Xiao Long: Pornomancer.


	48. Made of Steel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Glynda Goodwitch arrives in Atlas to meet with General Ironwood, Team RWBY is curious. Why haven't they seen their former professor for so long, and why is she meeting with Ironwood? They're not an item, are they? Are Ironwood and Goodwitch lovers?
> 
> Only one way to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, back from my last trip for the summer. (I hope.) And back to this collection of fics! 
> 
> This was one of Doppler's ideas, a few weeks back.

“Ohhh _gawds,_ ” Yang Xiao Long moaned. Not for the reasons one might think: actually, she was just very tired. It had been another day of guarding the long convoy route to Amity Colosseum, and she just wanted to sleep. Blake Belladonna, walking next to her, didn’t look much better. Ruby Rose and Weiss Schnee, on the other hand, were still fairly chipper: they’d spent the day helping Penny Polendina patrol Mantle…which was really just walking around while Penny did the heavy lifting. Even with that, the Grimm had been quiet this day. “Got to get some sleep!” Yang insisted.

“If you wouldn’t stay up so late playing video games…” Weiss admonished.

“Shut up, Weiss.”

Weiss ignored Yang. “And you, Blake, you wouldn't be so tired if you weren’t trying to read _Ninjas of Love VII: The Man With Two Katanas_ in one sitting.”

Blake gave her a dirty look. A bleary dirty look, but one nonetheless. “Shut up, Weiss.”

Weiss snickered a little. “And Ruby—“

“Shut up, Weiss!” Ruby laughed.

“And that’s what I—“ Weiss began, but then Ruby put up a hand, actually shushing her. Weiss was about to say something short and to the point when Ruby pointed towards Atlas Academy’s landing pad. A Bullhead had just landed there, which was not interesting. What was interesting was the fact that Glynda Goodwitch had just stepped out of it. “My word,” Weiss finished instead. “That’s Professor Goodwitch.”

“So she _is_ still alive,” Blake said. “We should go talk to her.”

“Not me,” Yang yawned. “I’m going straight to bed. If Glynda wants to talk to us, she can do it tomorrow.”

“I’ll go put Yang to bed,” Weiss offered. “Why don’t you two go see her?”

“That’s okay; I’ll go with Yang,” Blake replied. “I’m bushed too. You and Ruby go.” Weiss shrugged, and followed Ruby around the perimeter of Atlas Academy, to where the landing pad was.

Blake and Yang got to the dorm room, though Yang was nearly out on her feet by the time they did. Blake, despite her own fatigue, helped her friend get undressed, at least down to her underwear, before Yang flopped onto her bed. “Blake, read me a bedtime story,” she said with a tired smile, as the Faunus pulled the covers over her. 

“How’s a chapter of _Ninjas of Love_ sound?” Blake joked, but Yang was already asleep, a smile on her face. Blake leaned over and kissed her lover’s forehead, then undressed herself and got into her own bunk. She figured she’d be lucky to get a page into her book before she joined Yang in the Land of Nod, but the chapter was very intense, and despite her fatigue, Blake kept reading. 

About twenty minutes later, Ruby and Weiss arrived. While Weiss stowed their weapons, Ruby walked over to her bunk and pulled her boots off. “What did Glynda have to say?” Blake whispered. She probably could have yelled at the top of her lungs: Yang, much like her sister, slept like a stone and would have snored through a low-order nuclear detonation.

It was Weiss that answered. “She’s all right. But Vale has been badly damaged. Beacon is…” The former heiress sighed. “Beacon is gone. It’s been overrun with Grimm. Goodwitch has been able to keep them out of the city, but they could use some help. She’s hoping Ironwood can detach some of the Atlesian fleet.”

“Not likely,” Blake said.

“No, not likely.”

“At least the Wyvern I froze is still there,” Ruby said. “Maybe we could get that sawed off Cordovin chick to march her ‘Mech over to Vale and drill that bastard to death.”

“They could send us, for that matter.” Weiss pulled out her nightshirt. “We’re really not doing all that much here.” She stripped off her battle outfit, undid her braid, and put on the shirt before climbing into her bunk. 

Ruby was now in her pajamas, and switched off the light, leaving the room illuminated by the lights of Atlas. She paused before she got into her bed, however, noticing the lights on in one of Atlas’ highest towers—Ironwood’s office lights. “Hey,” she said. “Professor Goodwitch went off with General Ironwood even though it's pretty late. Do you think…maybe…they’re hooking up?”

The room was silent for a minute, then Blake said, “You mean you think Ironwood and Goodwitch are lovers?”

“Maybe. I mean, they kind of seemed sweet on each other back at Beacon.”

“I thought they gave each other hell,” Weiss said.

“Nah,” Ruby insisted. “I bet that was an act.”

“There’s a fine line between love and hate,” Blake added. “Might be some slap-slap-kiss going on between them. You know, Weiss—like your sister and Qrow Branwen.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.” Weiss still couldn’t believe her beloved, straitlaced sister was sleeping with the uncouth, unshaven uncle of Ruby and Yang.

Ruby hopped into her bunk. “Wish we could find out. I’m curious.”

Blake set down _Ninjas of Love._ “I admit I’m curious too. But we can’t just ask them.”

“ _Why_ are we curious?” Weiss wanted to know. “They’re consenting adults. Who cares?”

“Hey, I’m game.” To everyone’s surprise, it was Yang that spoke. 

“You’re awake?” Ruby asked.

“With everybody yapping, like I had a choice?” Yang threw off her covers. Blake made a mental note: Yang _could_ be awakened by people talking, after all. “But you know...I may be tired, but I kinda want to know too.”

“It’s none of our business,” Weiss argued. 

“Maybe it should be.” Blake jumped out of her bunk, landing lightly on the floor. “If Ironwood is detaching ships to Vale because he’s pronging Goodwitch, that’s favoritism. He really shouldn’t be doing that.”

“Not if Vale needs the ships!” Weiss was still arguing.

Yang shrugged. “I just want to know if ol’ Ironbutt is banging Glynda. I mean, how would that work? She’s got telekinesis for her Semblance, so she can levitate stuff. And Ironwood’s probably got a bionic dick or something.”

Weiss covered her eyes as Blake and Ruby chortled. “Yang, please. Ironwood’s wounds did _not_ extend to his groin area.”

“How do _you_ know, Weissy?” Yang leered.

“Because my sister saw him showering in the field one day and…and just shut up, Yang!” Weiss turned a little red, because that meant Winter had been spying on Ironwood—or at least hadn’t turned away when she saw the general naked. And it also meant that Weiss had asked Winter about it. “I was curious, all right?”

“And so are we,” Blake replied. “I do honestly think this is something we need to know. Everyone’s keeping a lot of secrets these days.” She glanced at Yang. Neither one had admitted to Ironwood, or the rest of Team RWBY, that they had told Robyn Hill about the Amity Project. 

Weiss flopped back on her pillow. “And Yang wants to know if Ironwood has a bionic penis.”

“It’s cool if he does,” Yang said, flexing her artificial arm. She made a V with two of the fingers and waggled them at Blake, who went pink and turned away. 

Ruby threw off her covers. “Okay, it’s settled. Team RWBY, get your gear on. We’re going to find out what Ironwood’s doing.” She grinned in the semi-darkness. “Or who.”

Half an hour later, now in full battle rattle, Team RWBY arrived at the bottom of Ironwood’s tower. “I still don’t know why we’re carrying our weapons,” Weiss wanted to know. She was increasingly feeling like the only sane person in the team. 

“Duh!” Ruby pointed upwards. The tower rose majestically into the night sky, lit by floodlights at the bottom; the top was illuminated by the moon and Atlas’ aurora borealis, which shimmered against the stars. “We’re going to have to climb that. If I fall or something, I’m going to need Crescent Rose to not get killed. You know, landing strategy?”

“Something else I don’t want to be reminded of,” Weiss groaned. She’d never understood Professor Ozpin’s idea of initiation being to catapult students off cliffs and see if they survived the experience. 

Yang craned her head upwards. Blake did the same, and gave a low whistle. “That’s a long way up. I’m not afraid of heights, but still.”

The blonde laughed. “You know, Blake, it’s not the fall that kills you.”

“Oh no,” Blake agreed. “It’s the very sudden stop.”

“So here’s what we’re gonna do,” Ruby said. “Weiss, you use your glyphs to about there—“ she pointed at a spot about halfway up the tower. “Blake, you can tie Gambol Shroud around me, and I’ll run up the glyphs using my Semblance. Then I’ll anchor Crescent Rose on the side, and you can shimmy up the rope. Yang, you grab Weiss and use Ember Celica to shoot your way up to me, and hang onto Crescent Rose. Then we’ll do the same thing for the rest of the way to the top. How’s that sound?” Yang and Blake nodded. Weiss looked at Ruby as if the latter had sprouted horns and begun dancing a softshoe. “Don’t like the plan?” Ruby asked, a little miffed. Weiss was being kind of bitchy tonight. “You got a better idea?”

“I do,” Weiss answered. “We could go in the front door, ride the elevator up to Ironwood’s floor, knock on his office door, and see who answers.”

“Yeah, but what if he just denies everything?” Ruby demanded. “We go up on the outside window, and we can see if he’s banging Professor Goodwitch! And see if he has a robot penis!”

“Bionic penis,” Weiss corrected.

“Whatever!”

“Weiss has a point,” Yang said, which caused the subject’s eyebrows to raise in surprise. “If we’re hanging off his window, Ironwood might think we’re Grimm or something, and blow us away. Plus if there’s a Bullhead on patrol…”

“Or Penny,” Blake said. The android defender of Mantle also extended her patrol pattern to Atlas on occasion.

“You guys are ruining my plan!” Ruby sulked. “Besides, what about those guards over there?” There were four Atlesian soldiers standing around the front entrance. None of them were paying attention to Team RWBY.

Weiss smirked at her—Ruby might be her best friend, but she still didn’t mind needling the reaper on occasion. She turned and walked up to the entrance, with Yang and Blake flanking her, and a fuming Ruby bringing up the rear. She stopped as the guards closed ranks around the entrance, pulled out her Scroll, and held it up. “Huntress business,” she said in a voice used to command. “We need to speak with General Ironwood immediately.”

The guards looked at each other. All of them knew Team RWBY were now licensed Huntresses, and all recognized the former heir to the Schnee fortune; Weiss might be in disgrace, but she was still a Schnee. “Um,” one of the guards began. “I don’t know, Miss Schnee—the general left orders not to be disturbed…”

Weiss speared the guard with an icy stare. “What is the name of your commanding officer, soldier?”

“Uh, technically that would be Colonel…uh…Schnee…” He abruptly realized what that meant, and the other guards did too. All four snapped to attention. “Sorry, Team RWBY! You may pass.”

“Thank you,” Weiss said in a cold voice, and walked through the entrance. Yang winked at the guards as she walked past, Blake stuck her nose in the air in a false show of contempt, and Ruby just grunted. 

“See?” Weiss said as they went to the bank of elevators. “Simple."

“Shut up, Weiss,” Ruby grumped.

Yang and Blake covered their smiles as Weiss, who didn’t bother covering hers, punched the button for the top floor. The elevator was silent as it quickly made its way up to Ironwood’s office floor. The doors opened, Team RWBY stepped out, and found themselves facing all five members of Ace Ops, their weapons over their shoulders. 

“Evening,” Clover Ebi said with a maddening grin. 

Harriet Bree was grinning as well, which did not improve Ruby’s mood. She was never sure if she liked Harriet or wanted to punch her in the face, repeatedly. “Bit late to be out on the town, huh?”

Weiss sighed. She knew her Huntress Business ploy was not going to work on Ace Ops. “Let me guess. General Ironwood left orders not to be disturbed.”

“That’s right,” Clover confirmed. “He and Professor Goodwitch are negotiating Atlesian assistance to Vale.”

“What are _you_ doing up here?” Elm Ederne wanted to know, her voice full of suspicion. 

“Calm down, Elm,” Vine Zeki spoke. “Is it really Huntress business? I’m sure that the general won’t mind being interrupted if it’s that.”

“I don’t know about that…” Marrow Amin put in. Alone among the Ace Operatives, he was a Faunus—and there was something about Ironwood and Goodwitch that had smelled odd.

Weiss glanced at Ruby, who was the one smiling triumphantly now. She may have been _Weiss’_ best friend, but she too didn’t mind seeing the former heiress getting taken down a notch. “No, it’s nothing that important. I suppose it can wait until the morning.”

“Are you sure?” Clover asked honestly. “You came up here in full gear. That sounds like it’s important.”

Weiss tried to think of a good excuse. Ruby folded her arms across her breasts; she was no help. Blake looked unsure. Finally it was Yang who stepped forward. She lowered her voice. “Ace Ops, listen. We came up here to find out something that’s been bugging us since Beacon.”

Clover’s eyebrows came together in confusion. “Like what?”

“Like if General James Ironwood and Professor Glynda Goodwitch are screwing each other.”

Elm’s eyes rounded. “Say _what?”_

“Keep it down!” Yang hissed. 

As usual, Clover took the question in stride. “That’s not really anyone’s business…” he began.

“It is if it effects Remnant,” Blake said. “If there’s, um, relations between them…it would mean Ironwood is favoring Vale over Mistral or Vacuo. Now we’re not saying that _is_ what he’s doing, or even that it would be necessarily wrong—Vale’s in worse shape than we are here in Atlas. But I think it’s something we need to know about.”

“She has a point,” Vine said.

“And they did smell kind of funny,” Marrow added. “Kind of like…affection, or something. I don’t exactly know how to describe it.”

Harriet snorted. “Oh, come on. If the general and that Goodwitch chick were banging each other, don’t you think we would’ve heard it? We’ve been standing out here since she went in!”

“Not everyone makes noise during sex,” Elm told her. 

“Well, people around _here_ sure do!” Harriet snarled. “You were with me the other night, Elm!”

Elm turned beet red. “Uh…”

“What happened the other night?” Ruby asked innocently.

_The Other Night_

“ _Oh gods, Blake, your fingers are so deep inside! Oh gods, you’re so fuckin’ deep, I’m so fuckin’ full, Blake! Gods, you’re so good at this, you’re so fuckin’ good! I’m gonna come, Blakey! I’m gonna come so hard—“_

Elm’s hands were to her mouth as she looked through the window set into the door of the gym. “Holy schneet,” she said between her fingers. “What is that girl _doing_ to Xiao Long?”

Harriet leaned against the door, shaking her head. “Fuck. I hope they clean the equipment off, at least.”

“You kidding?” Elm said. “I hope she bought her dinner first!”

_Back to the Present_

“Never mind what happened!” Elm said quickly. 

“Besides,” Yang said to Clover, wagging her eyebrows, “aren’t you…you know…curious?”

“I would kind of like to know myself,” Vine said.

“Plus we can see if Ironwood has a bionic—“ Weiss slapped her hand over Ruby’s mouth before the latter could finish her sentence.

Clover hesistated for a moment, then looked at his team. Vine looked back, clearly wanting Clover to reply in the affirmative. Marrow’s tail was wagging. Elm was still trying to hide her blush, while Harriet was staring at Blake—not in a challenging sort of way, but a curious one. And he had to admit to himself that he was a bit curious himself. Salem could disguise herself as other people, and besides…this Glynda Goodwitch was pretty good looking. He wondered if she was a natural blonde.

“Okay,” Clover finally said. “But we’re going to knock on the door, all right? We’re not going to burst in on them.”

“Right,” Yang concurred. “Ironwood shoots too damn straight for that.”

“Sure,” Ruby agreed. “And if there’s clothes all over the place and Ironwood looks really embarrassed—“

“Or pissed,” Harriet interrupted.

“Or pissed, well, we’ll know.”

Clover nodded, and Team RWBY and Ace Ops went to the door to Ironwood’s office. Clover looked back at the eight people behind them, brought up a hand for silence, and knocked on the door. “Sir?” he called out. “Is everything all right?”

There was silence for a moment, then the door opened. James Ironwood stood in the entrance, in full uniform—though the top buttons on the tunic were undone, but that meant nothing other than he was off-duty. “What is it, Clover?” he asked in an even voice. Then he saw Team RWBY trying not to look suspicious. “Oh, hello. What brings you four out here at a late hour?”

“We just wanted to make sure Professor Goodwitch was all right as well,” Weiss said; she’d already figured out that she was Team RWBY’s best liar. “Since the Fall of Beacon, we’ve been concerned.”

“And with Salem and Neo Politan running around lately…” Ruby added, though she knew that Neo could not pull off that disguise, since Neo wasn’t exactly capable of carrying on whole conversations.

Ironwood stepped back. Goodwitch sat behind Ironwood’s desk. On the desk was a plate of sandwiches, a few bottles of water, and two cups of coffee. Goodwitch was fully clothed, and peered at the two teams over the tops of her glasses—a look Team RWBY recognized all too well. Goodwitch tended to have that look when the team was caught doing something stupid. “I hadn’t had time to eat,” she said loudly. “So General Ironwood was kind enough to offer me a late night dinner.”

“So…you’re good?” Ruby asked.

“Quite so, Miss Rose.”

Clover nodded. “Sorry to bother you, sir. We’ll get back to our posts.”

“Not at all, Clover—Ruby. I appreciate the sentiment.” Ironwood smiled and closed the door.

“So much for the sex conspiracy,” Blake sighed as the two teams walked away.

“Ah well,” Yang said. “At least we know now, right?”

Ironwood listened at the door for a moment, then walked back towards the desk. “Sorry, Glynda. Not sure what got into them. I’m sure they’re just worried about you.”

Goodwitch smiled, and stood up. She wore her white shirt and purple cape…and nothing else. She was naked below the waist, confirming that she was indeed a natural blonde. “Oh, I rather expected it from Team RWBY. A good thing you left the security cameras on the entrance on.” She motioned at the monitor on the side of his desk. “Though I honestly expected them to scale the tower, not merely go up the elevator. I guess they _have_ matured.” Ironwood drew her into a kiss, and Goodwitch grinned through it. “Think we fooled them?”

“I think so.”

“Good. Now…shall we get down to business?” Goodwitch used her telekinesis to float the food and drinks to one side, then sat on the desk and spread her legs. Ironwood corrected himself: she wasn’t entirely naked below the waist; her stockings were still on. Quickly, he stripped off his tunic, then dropped pants and underwear to his ankles. She ran her fingers over his chest, both flesh and metal; the latter no longer bothered her. Then she looked down and giggled, something Team RWBY (and JNPR, and Team CRDL, and Team SSSN) would not have thought Glynda Goodwitch was capable of. “Well,” she smiled up at him, taking off her glasses. “It may not be bionic, but it’s certainly hard as steel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Glynda was around in Season 7, Ironwood would've been a lot less uptight...


	49. Meet Me Halfway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite being exhausted, Ruby's gotten a call from Oscar: a booty call, if you will. She's more than happy to accept, and Oscar has something special planned for Miss Rose tonight.
> 
> Unfortunately, they have a guard. Penny Polendina's been assigned to make sure Ruby and Oscar are not disturbed, and nothing is going to stop her from her assigned task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone suggested that Oscar and Ruby need to have more protection (not that kind of protection). This won't be the only story in which this happens; it'll probably get more absurd as things go on. I also based some of this off a Battletech short I wrote a long time ago (though I had to be careful, since I used that same short for Pyrrha and Jaune in "One Night in Atlas"). Maswartz also suggested a little something about Ozpin's other incarnations showing up, so...

“Weiss,” Ruby Rose groaned, “will you carry me? I’m sooo tired…”

“No.” 

Ruby turned to Blake. “Blaaaake…”

“No.”

“Yaaang…” Ruby whined pitifully to her sister.

“Sure, Rubes—“

“Don’t!” Weiss snapped. “It’s her own fault for staying up so late. First for dragging us over to Ironwood’s quarters—where _nothing_ was happening, I might add—and then staying up to all hours playing that stupid video game!”

Ruby’s eyes blazed. “Grimm Crush is awesome, Weiss! If you weren’t such a prissy bitch you’d play it too!”

Before Weiss and Ruby could throw down, Yang grabbed her sister and threw her over one shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes. Ruby yelped and was now upside down, but Yang began carrying her, as requested. Weiss shook her head and Blake only gave a chuckle, and Team RWBY resumed its walk back to their quarters.

Weiss admitted to herself that it _had_ been a long day, at least for her and Ruby. The day before it had been Yang and Blake who had done the Amity run; now it was Ruby and Weiss. It wasn’t arduous; they didn’t even have to load and unload the truck. It was just long and mind-numbingly boring, with endless vistas of white snow, white tundra, and white mountains. It was a sea of arctic nothingness, and after two hours of it, one would pray for a Grimm attack or the Happy Huntresses to show up, just to break the monotony. Clover and Qrow played cards to pass the time, but Weiss and Ruby didn’t have that option, since neither knew how to play. Nor could they sleep, since attacks could and did happen. Still, it might have been bearable…if Ruby hadn’t been going on three hours of sleep. Weiss had kept having to wake her up, while fighting sleep herself.

They went into the elevator, Yang still carrying Ruby and grinning at the other two. A Scroll chime went off, and everyone did the Was It Me dance for a moment before Ruby said “Oh, it’s mine,” followed by “Hey, it’s Oscar!” Yang’s artificial hand involuntarily bunched up a good portion of Ruby’s skirt before she forced herself to relax. Blake, knowing her friend’s discomfiture, reached out and touched Yang’s real hand. Yang was trying to get used to the fact that her little sister, little Ruby that used to be Yang's dress-up doll and follow her around everywhere, was now an adult with her own lover. Despite hanging halfway upside down, Ruby managed to get out her Scroll, check the message, and stuff it back in a pocket. “What did he say?” Blake asked.

“Just wants to meet me. In his room.”

“Oh ho,” Weiss smiled. 

“Don’t be mean, Weiss. I don’t give you hell about Jaune.”

Blake decided to have a little fun with Ruby. “Ruby, may I ask a question?”

“That depends.”

Blake went ahead anyway, winking at Yang. “So when you and Oscar are…you know…does any of Ozma’s other reincarnations show up? That guy with the goatee was kind of hot.” Weiss smothered a snicker, and even Yang had to bite her lip. 

“What? _No!_ You’re sick, Blake! Gross!”

“It’s logical,” Weiss piled on. “In the middle of combat, perhaps Ozma’s other incarnations can give Oscar advice. Maybe they can provide sex tips in the bedroom as well. They would be _far_ more experienced.”

Ruby began to squirm around, trying to get to Weiss and throttle her, but Yang tightened her grip, and she jumped in as well, as big sisters will do. She might still be having trouble realizing Ruby was an adult, but Yang wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to rib Ruby. “Oh yeah, I could see that. You and Oscar are getting it on, and all of a sudden it’s this ‘Oh, ‘ello there, Ruby! I say, I am the 25th reincarnation of Ozma!’” She affected an upper-crust Atlesian accent. Blake and Weiss burst into laughter.

Ruby punched Yang in the back, but her sister didn’t let go. “Dammit! Shut up! You suck, Yang!”

“Only if Blake asks nicely,” Yang replied. Blake rolled her eyes, but was still smiling.

The elevator opened before Team RWBY could abuse their leader any longer, and Yang—though she was tempted to drop Ruby on her head—instead set down her sister gently. Weiss took Crescent Rose away. “I’ll put this in the weapons rack,” she said. “Have a good time now.”

Yang poked Ruby with a finger. “Is your protection shot up to date?”

“Yes! _Gods!”_ The younger sister folded her arms angrily.

“All right then.” Yang fixed Ruby’s cape, which had gotten sideways on the ride up. “Don’t stay out too late, now.” Ruby made sounds of rupture at that. 

“Don’t do anything Weiss wouldn’t do!” Blake called out, as the rest of the team headed towards their dorm room. Weiss shot the Faunus a dirty look.

“’Don’t do anything Weiss wouldn’t do…’” Ruby grumbled as she turned to Oscar’s room. “Yeah, that pretty much covers everything, since I bet Prissy Weissy only goes straight missionary…” The door to Team RWBY’s dorm room closed behind her teammates, but before Ruby could knock on Oscar’s door, another one—this to the dorm’s stairwell—creaked open. Much to Ruby’s shock, and annoyance, it was Penny Polendina. “Salutations,” said the android, but to her friend’s surprise, it wasn’t in Penny’s normal boisterous voice, but rather a more soft one.

“Penny?” Ruby asked. “What are you doing here?”

“General Ironwood ordered me here.” _Uh oh,_ Ruby thought. _Ironwood’s pissed about last night. Maybe he and Goodwitch really_ were _up to something._ But to Ruby’s surprise, Penny continued, “He said he was worried about you and Oscar’s wellbeing. He wants you both to be happy. And so,” Penny smiled, “I’m here to stand guard as long as you and Oscar are together tonight!”

Ruby slumped. “Great. And how did you know I was getting together with Oscar tonight? I only found out a few seconds ago myself.”

“I guessed!” Penny said happily, clearly proud of herself.

“Outstanding,” Ruby grumped. Penny—and Ironwood—meant well, but there was no way she was going to get anything going with Oscar if her friend the warbot was standing outside. Even if Ruby so much as moaned too loud, Penny would probably blow Oscar’s door off its hinges; in fact, she’d already done that once. Ruby yawned. _Of course, as tired as I am, maybe I’ll just pass out in Oscar’s arms. Kind of romantic, I guess._ Still, with Penny’s wide, bright green eyes doing their best impression of a puppy’s, and the beatific smile on the android’s face, Ruby felt like a jerk if she just told Penny to get lost. Plus Ironwood _had_ ordered her, and Penny might not be able to override that order. “Okay, Penny,” Ruby whispered, “look. I’m going in there to possibly have intimate relations with Oscar, right?”

“Of course. You plan to have sex with him,” Penny confirmed.

“Maybe. Anyway, if I do, can you turn down your auditory receptors or whatever? I don’t want you listening, okay?”

“But Ruby,” Penny said in consternation, “if I turn down my auditory receptors, then I can’t intervene if you’re in trouble—“

“ _Penny.”_ Ruby’s voice was an uncharacteristic snarl, and Penny involuntarily took a step back.

“I will turn down my auditory receptors,” Penny said, a little nervously.

“Thanks.” She gave Penny a quick hug, to show that they were still friends, and knocked on Oscar’s door. “Come in,” she heard him say. Penny assumed a parade rest position, and noticeably dimmed her eyes, showing that she was turning down her sensor array. Ruby nodded and went inside, closing the door behind her.

To Ruby’s surprise, Oscar’s room was pitch dark. Her night vision was enough that she could make out the furnishings, but she couldn’t see her lover.

Then suddenly his hands were on her shoulders. “Hi, Ruby.”

She smelled something, tangy and sweet. It smelled good. Manly. Sexy. Ruby realized it was some sort of body spray. She didn’t know what it was, but it was sending a rather sweet jolt from her nose to her groin, which she didn’t think were connected. Then she felt his lips on an ear, then the electric spark of his tongue. “O-Oscar?” she stammered.

Without warning, he spun her around and kissed her firmly. Ruby was taken by surprise, but quickly she melted in his arms. This was really weird, she thought (albeit with some difficulty). Oscar was never the aggressor, but now he was. She liked it. With a start, she wondered if Yang was right: was Oscar getting some advice from Ozma’s other reincarnations? Was this _one_ of those reincarnations? She sneaked a peek at his eyes when he pulled back from the kiss. They looked the same; they didn’t have the somewhat shinier cast of when Ozpin was in control. Then he kissed her again, his tongue licking at her teeth, and Ruby decided that she didn’t really care if this was one of Ozma’s reincarnations or not. Whoever it was knew what they were doing.

Truth to tell, Oscar had gone to Lie Ren for advice, figuring (correctly) that anyone who could survive a relationship with Nora Valkyrie must be doing something right. Ren had been helpful, and gave him some pointers. This was one of them, something Ren had guaranteed Oscar would drive Ruby wild; after all, it worked on Nora. (Then again, Nora’s sexual inclination was pretty simple: all Ren had to do was show up.)

Oscar’s hands went to work, unlacing Ruby’s corset strings. She tried to help, but he gently pulled her hands away and continued. Fairly quickly, Ruby was stripped to her underwear, and all she could do was stand there. It was wonderful. He then kissed her, removed her bra, kissed both nipples, then slipped off her panties, and kissed her down there, too. Ruby gave a little whine at that. She didn’t think she’d ever been this turned on—well, there was the one time with the cookies, but that was accidentally and chemically induced.

“Oscar…” she whispered.

“Shh,” he told her. As gently as he could, he picked her up—he was surprisingly strong for his size, thanks to working on the farm—and carried Ruby to the little bathroom. He switched on the light, and Ruby could finally confirm what her eyes had been telling her: Oscar had been naked the whole time. And if she was turned on, he was obviously feeling the same. He turned on the shower to the temperature she liked (hot enough to broil Grimm), then bowed like a butler and ushered her in. Ruby smiled and stepped into the steam. As she did so, Oscar slapped her bottom—another piece of Ren’s advice, as Nora kind of liked that. (Of course, she usually reciprocated, with enough force that Ren would have trouble sitting for a few days, but Oscar didn’t need to know that.) Ruby yelped in surprise, then giggled.

Penny heard the yelp; even over the sound of the shower, even with her internal volume turned down considerably. Her body tensed, her programming and her friendship telling her to laser the door off and find out who was hurting Ruby. Then she overrode that impulse, and took a deep breath (more by instinct, since Penny didn’t breathe). “I will not intervene,” she told herself. “Ruby is all right.”

Oscar held Ruby from behind, but to her surprise, even though she could feel his hardness against her rear, he didn’t try anything. Instead, he pulled out a bottle of strawberry-scented shampoo and began washing her hair. His fingers massaged her scalp and seemingly each strand. Ruby had no idea getting her hair washed was erotic, but she found herself breathing hard. Oscar was not quite as skilled as he seemed; actually, more of the shampoo ended up on both of them than her hair, making them slippery. And more fun.

Ruby wondered if she was going to lose her mind. She felt emptiness between her legs, emptiness that begged to be filled, as soon as possible. “O-Oscar,” she panted, “p-please…I can’t…”

_Slow burn,_ Oscar heard Ren’s voice in his head. _Women like that._ But now Oscar felt bad. Ruby was shaking like a leaf, despite the heat of the shower, and she was making mewling noises, whimpering with need. There was slow burn, and there was torture. He couldn’t do that to the girl he loved. So gently, Oscar reached down and slipped a finger inside of her. 

Ruby screamed.

Penny’s eyes flared, and panels in her back opened as her blades snapped into place for immediate use. A command line popped up in her internal visual readout.

IF: RUBY (BEST FRIEND) STATUS: TROUBLE  
THEN: EXECUTE COMMAND ‘GET MEDIEVAL’

“Priority command override,” Penny told herself. “Friend is not in trouble.” With difficulty, she continued to override her programming to tear the door off its hinges.

Ruby sank to the shower, trembling, the streaming water washing off the shampoo. “Oh gods, Oscar. Oh gods. I’ve…wow…”

He knelt down next to her. “You’re okay?”

“Oh yeah.” She shakily kissed him. “Where did you learn this? Is Ozma guiding you or something?”

Oscar rubbed the back of his head. “Heh. Actually, it was Ren.”

“I’m going to get him like some Dust bullets or something…” He helped her back up, turned off the shower, and helped her towel off. She was still turned on, and the toweling actually ratcheted it back up. Ruby didn’t know if she was multi-orgasmic—Oscar never lasted that long—but tonight might just be the night to find out. 

Oscar was hard as Vacuo algebra, but he was determined that tonight was for Ruby more than himself. Once more, he gathered her into his arms and picked her up. Ruby squealed happily and tucked her hands behind his neck as he carried her to the bed. 

Then his toes caught in the shag carpet. 

All the training Oscar had been doing with Team FNKI paid off. He slipped and fell forward, but had the presence of mind to throw Ruby towards the bed, then twist to one side, so nothing vital was broken and the Atlas Academy Clinic ER would have no stories to tell about that one night with the Huntress and the farmboy. Ruby bounced off the bed, shouted a horrible word, and crashed onto the floor on the other side of the bed.

Though Pietro Polendina had programmed Penny with free will, there were certain aspects of her programming that would overwhelm that free will. Penny was designed to put herself in danger to protect others, and certain commands would override even her self-protection algorithms. One of those was to protect and defend her friends at all costs.

This was one of those times. Penny whirled, her eyes flaring to life. Powerful myomer arm muscles bulged through the puffy sleeves of her outfit; leg muscles anchored her to the floor. Her targeting computer locked onto the door of the apartment. Her blades sprang forth, their molecularly-sharp edges rotating to face the door. They began to spin. Penny drew back a fist that could smash through the side of a tank, the fist shot forward…

…and politely, she knocked on the door. “Ruby?” she asked. “Oscar? Are you all right?”

Ruby massaged her rear, thanking the gods for her Aura, as she got to her feet. “Wait one, Penny.” She looked across to Oscar, who groaned, got to his knees, and threw her a thumbs-up. “We’re okay, Penny. Thank you for asking.”

“Wait. Penny’s _outside?”_ Oscar asked.

“Yeah. Ironwood wants us to be happy or something.” Ruby shrugged. “I mean, we _have_ gotten interrupted a bunch. Penny herself, Yang, my entire team, Salem…”

“I appreciate it, but I don’t want Penny…you know…listening to us.”

“I’m not!” Penny insisted, through the door. “It’s just that you are my friends and I want to protect you!”

Ruby sighed, walked to the door, and opened it just a little. “Penny,” she said gently, “we’ll be okay. Oscar just slipped.”

“But I—“

“You can’t protect us from ourselves, Penny. And really…I think it would be for the best if we were alone, okay?”

Penny looked sad. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Then, deciding that Penny would neither be embarrassed, offended and certainly not aroused by nudity, Ruby opened the door, hugged Penny, and kissed her on the cheek. “You’re a good person, Penny. You’re my friend. You’ll always be my friend. But I need you to do this, okay? For me and Oscar?”

“Aww, Ruby.” She withdrew from the hug. “Of course. I will go on patrol. Will it be all right if I check on you in an hour?”

“Sure. But don’t panic if you hear me…you know…screaming in pleasure or something.” Ruby blushed. “I think I’m going to try for multiple…uh…”

“Orgasms?” Penny smiled, and winked. “Good luck.” Then she turned and walked towards the stairwell. Ruby smiled too, and closed the door, turning back to Oscar. “Where were we?”

He stood up. He’d been afraid Penny would see him through the door, and while the android might not be embarrassed, Oscar sure would be. “I don’t think I can carry you to the bed again.”

“That’s okay. Meet me halfway?” They climbed onto the bed together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, poor Penny. She just wants what's best for her friends. 
> 
> I'm not much of a computer guy, so if I didn't get Penny's command line right, sorry.


	50. What To Expect When You're Expecting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taiyang is surprised when Raven informs him that she's pregnant. But she's not too happy about that fact. In fact, she's downright angry.
> 
> Luckily, Tai has an idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is the result of a prompt from CJ Lowder about Yang's conception. That one just clicked as an idea: almost as soon as I read it, I knew where I wanted to go with it. This chapter isn't quite as funny as I'd like (though I do enjoy the interaction of the married couple of Tai and Raven), but since we know that this won't end well, it was a bit hard to make it comedic. 
> 
> By the way, if foul language offends you...better not read this chapter. Raven swears like a drunk sailor with Tourette's in my stories, and this is no different.

Taiyang Xiao Long was a happy man. He was coming up on his nine-month anniversary since he’d married one of the most beautiful women on Remnant (at least in his admittedly biased opinion), Raven Branwen. He’d graduated with honors from Beacon Academy and was a licensed—and respected—Huntsman. And he’d finally found a place of his own, a cabin at the edge of a pine forest, on his home island of Patch. True, he was now privy to the knowledge of the undead Queen of the Grimm, Salem, and his job was an insanely dangerous one. Nonetheless, Tai could not think of something that would make his life any better. He whistled a jaunty tune as he put the finishing touches on a modest dinner of seasoned chicken nuggets for the two of them. Summer Rose, the leader of Team STRQ, as they were known, was coming by in a few hours for dessert, which likely meant a trip to town. Summer had a metabolism that was unnatural, and Tai wanted to leave some room for he and Raven to keep up. Qrow Branwen, Raven’s slightly disheveled brother, was also due to come by, though he was a definite maybe, as Ozpin had him on yet another covert mission. 

“Taiyang Xiao Long!” Raven’s shout and the slam of the door made him jump. Luckily, he wasn’t holding a knife at the time. He heard the stomping of his wife’s boots as she stalked into the kitchen. He turned to her with the easy smile that had won the tempestous tribeswoman’s heart. 

Raven was obviously not in a good mood, however. “You fucking bastard,” was the first words out of her mouth as she entered the kitchen, red eyes blazing, one hand on her sword hilt.

_Uh oh,_ Tai thought. Raven’s explosive temper was legendary. She’d never been physically abusive—Tai wouldn’t have stood for it—but she could be verbally so. The best thing to do was to try and calm her down. “Okay,” he said evenly. “It’s good to see you too, Raven. Welcome home, Raven—“

“Shut up!” she snapped. “I should tear off your dick and make you eat it!”

_Gods,_ Tai thought. She was really upset. He leaned back against the counter. “All right. What’s got your panties in a wad?”

“Fuck off!” Raven shouted, and stalked forward. “Why the hell did I marry you?”

Tai folded his beefy arms across his chest. “You want to tell me why you’re cussing me out? Did I wipe out your tribe in my sleep or something?”

Raven reached into a pocket of her yukata-like tunic and pulled out a flat, tongue-depressor like object. She flung it onto the counter. He glanced down at it and his eyes widened. It was a pregnancy test, and unless he was reading it wrong, it was positive.

“Yeah, that’s right,” she growled. “I’m pregnant. Knocked up. Preggers. Bun in the oven.”

Tai couldn’t help but get a silly grin on his face, which didn’t improve Raven’s mood. “But, Rae, that’s great! That’s wonderful!”

“No, it fucking isn’t! I didn’t want to get pregnant, Tai!” To his surprise, there were tears in her eyes.

“I thought you wanted children,” Tai reminded her. Before they had married, they’d discussed it. Raven had mentioned that she wouldn’t mind a child. 

“Yes! Maybe! But not right fucking now! Not when things are going to shit in my tribe, and my fucking moron of a brother is running around doing crap for Ozpin instead of helping me!” She practically tore at her hair. “Godsdammit! I _told_ you we should’ve stopped that one time!”

Tai shook his head. “If you’re referring to the night about a month ago when I warned _you_ that neither one of us were being careful, you yelled at me, and I quote, to fuck you harder and shut up.” Raven was filthy-mouthed normally, the product of a hard upbringing, but Tai had noticed she got even filthier in the middle of sex. She also had a tendency to revise past history in her mind until she was blameless.

He could see on her face that she knew he was right. “Shut up.” She shook her head, not looking at him. “Can’t fucking believe this….I should be leading my tribe and killing fucking Grimm, not taking care of some fucking brat...”

Over a year of dating and almost a year of marriage, Taiyang had discovered his secret weapon to use against Raven when she was in a murderous mood. When talking her down failed, he would simply stare at her, and begin to strip her naked with his eyes. And so that was what he started to do. As she continued to mutter imprecations and imply that Taiyang’s parents weren’t married, he just stared at her. He imagined removing the yukata, exposing her perfect bust and those dime-sized pinkish nipples, then peeling the top off to show off her shoulders (which she liked to be nibbled) and her flat stomach (which she loved to be kissed). Then he’d undo her belt, pull her dress to her ankles, roll down her panties…

Raven suddenly noticed what Tai was doing. He had gotten a distant smile on his face, and involuntarily, her eyes dropped to his crotch and the bulge forming there. “Oh, no, Tai,” she pointed at him. “Don’t you fucking _dare._ ” He wasn’t listening, and Raven swallowed involuntarily as she watched his erection grow in those ridiculous cargo pants he liked to wear. “Tai…don’t…” There was a slight tremble in her voice now.

Beacon Academy training emphasized taking advantage of an opponent who was on the ropes, and Tai picked his moment. As Raven’s mouth fell open just a little, he stepped forward, gathered her in his arms, and kissed her, at the same time pressing himself against her. Raven resisted for a moment, but then her lips opened beneath his. Their tongues touched, and she suddenly wrenched herself free. “Damn you, Tai,” she hissed. Then she grabbed his cheeks and pressed him back against her lips. _Mission accomplished,_ Tai thought to himself, and started unwrapping her waistband. He slipped a rough hand into her yukata, and was surprised to find Raven wasn’t wearing a bra when his rough hands brushed against a stiffening nipple. “Think you're missing something,” he murmured through another kiss.

“I was in a hurry this morning…to get tested…hadn’t been feeling well…” She gasped as he pulled down the tunic and began to gently bite at her shoulders--not enough to break the skin, but enough to send shivers through her. Her own hands hadn’t been idle. She’d mostly gotten his shirt off, to expose those solid muscles that she loved to run her hands over. 

They headed for the living room. Their hands flew over each other, pulling off clothes; Raven’s dress ended up by the refrigerator, Tai’s shirt next to it. Her sword was on the stove, which luckily was off, since it was loaded with Dust. Her boots were kicked off to parts unknown; his shoes were at the dividing line of kitchen and living room. His pants and boxers, pulled off at the same time, were stretched across the threshold of the front door, while Raven’s panties ended up thrown onto the dining table. By the time they reached the middle of the living room, the only clothing between them was Raven’s beaded necklace and the ribbon in her hair.

They never made it to the sofa, Tai’s objective. Instead, she drew him downwards, dropping to the carpet and letting her thighs splay open. Tai never hesistated, and took her on the carpet. Raven moaned loudly—there wasn’t anyone for miles—and she dragged her fingernails up and down his back as he thrust into her. “Oh gods, Tai…” she breathed, “why do you know what to do to me…oh gods…” 

Tai was not giving Raven a chance to catch her breath, and, balanced on his hands, shoved into her with all of his might. She was being pushed across the carpet. “Dammit, Tai!” she yelled. “I’m getting rug burns on my ass!”

Tai just grinned down at her. “You have Aura.”

“Fuck you!”

“Pretty sure that’s what we’re doing.”

Raven suddenly rose up and tried to bite him. He stopped and jumped back, but she grinned back. “Get out of me, Tai. I’m going up top.”

“Okay.” He slid out of her and leaned back on the carpet. Raven jumped astride him and slid down. “Ah yeah,” she said. “That’s what I like.” She raked his chest with her nails. “Now shut up and fuck me hard.”

Tai wondered if Raven had already forgotten that those words was what had gotten them into this, but he complied. Soon she was tossing her head, her coal-black hair flying around her face. “Fuck yeah!” she shouted. “Oh, fuck _yeah!_ Come on, Tai, put your damn back into it! Pound me! Pound me! Pound me!”

_And there we go,_ Tai smiled. When Raven started yelling things like that, she was in the zone, as it were, and whatever argument they’d had was forgotten. Or at least put off for awhile. Tai hated to admit it to himself, but her screaming cuss words was a huge turn on. _Uh oh,_ he thought again, because it was a race now, and he was going to lose.

“R-Raven…” he groaned.

She laughed at him. “You gonna fucking come in me, Tai? Yeah, do it, boy! Come in me hard! So fucking hard!” And he did, to the accompaniment of Raven’s cackling laughter. She rode him until it was almost painful. Tai managed to get himself out of his wife before she did permanent damage, pulled her to him, and began licking her nipples. Raven screamed in delight, and with a final spate of nearly unintelligible and filthy oaths, she suddenly froze, yelled _“Fuck!”_ so loud it rattled the windows and drove away a Nevermore that had been flying over Patch, and collapsed on his chest, chest heaving, trembling in orgasm. 

For awhile, the only sounds in the Xiao Long-Branwen residence were heavy breathing. Tai, whose stamina had always been strong, recovered first. He got up, reached down, picked Raven up like she was a baby, and carried her to their bedroom, putting her on the bed. She smiled lovingly up at him, and Tai’s heart skipped a beat. Her hair was even more of a mess than usual, she was sweaty and didn’t exactly smell of roses, but she was his wife. 

And the mother of his child.

He quickly went into the kitchen, still naked, and grabbed dinner, then brought it back to the bedroom. Raven snuggled back into the pillows, running a hand across her thighs, the dense curls of black hair at their junction, and the aforementioned flat and muscular stomach. It was an invitation, but even Taiyang’s legendary stamina only went so far. He shook his head. “Feed me,” she commanded instead, and Tai did so.

Once they both were finished, he lay down next to her. Raven sighed. “You’re an asshole, Taiyang Xiao Long. You know that?”

“You mentioned it earlier.”

“Yeah…” She turned somber. “I’m sorry, Tai.” He looked at her: Raven rarely apologized. “I…guess I shouldn’t have said those things. I love you, Tai.”

"I love you too." He ran a hand over her belly button. If she was only a month along, she wouldn’t be showing. He still couldn’t believe it: underneath that pale skin was a life, the combination of Taiyang Xiao Long and Raven Branwen. He remembered reading about pregnancy once, during sex ed at Signal when he was a teenager. The baby wouldn’t be much bigger than his thumb, but it was there. “Why are you so angry about it?” he asked.

Raven put her hand over his. “I…I can’t be a Huntress with a baby, Tai. When I get fat and ugly—“

“You’ll never be that,” Tai reassured her.

“Yeah? Just wait until three months from now, when I kick you out of bed to go into town and buy me birdseed and chocolate.” Raven suddenly went paler than usual. “Oh shit. What happens if I turn into a bird when I’m preggers? Would I lose the kid?”

“Better not turn into a bird, then.” He kissed the hollow between her breasts. “Though I guess that takes away one part of our sex life.”

Raven snorted. “I just did it that _one_ time. Kiss my ass, Tai.” She referred to a time when she’d flown into the bedroom as a bird, transformed back into a human, and pounced on him while her feathers were still transitioning to skin. It had been a little strange. Tai turned her over and kissed both cheeks of her rear. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Dork.” She rested her head on her hands. “I bet Ozpin doesn’t even know. Oh well…not that I enjoy being a bird that much anyway.”

He stroked her back. “Wonder if it’s a girl or a boy? I hope it’s a boy.”

“I hope it’s a girl, just to spite you.” She smiled at him. “A cute little girl who grows up to be as much of a pain in the ass as her mother.”

“Now, now.” He put his hands behind his head. “I’m going to be a dad.” He’d always wanted that. Tai had come up the hard way as well—though not as hard as Raven—and he’d always wanted to spoil his children like he’d never had a chance to be. 

“And I’m going to be a mom.” She rolled back over on her back. “I’m going to suck at it, you know. I don’t know how to change a diaper. I'll literally get shit everywhere. Then I’ll probably put the kid on my back and go fight Grimm. And the kid’s first words will probably be ‘fuck you’ or something.” She shook her head. “I don’t have the maternal instinct of a Beowolf, Tai. Summer would be better at it than me, I think.”

Tai kissed her forehead. “Want me to marry her too? Get into some of that polyamory action?” he joked. Though Tai had always found Summer to be cute as a button, he loved Raven.

“Shit, no. I’m a jealous bitch. I don’t want to share.” Her fingers found his penis and began fondling it. “There’s enough here _to_ share, you horse, but I’m not going to. Let Summer find her own dick.” He was stiffening under her hand: Tai might know how to get Raven revving, but she also had her own ways. She leaned over and kissed it. “Ready for round two? Better get in as much fucking as we can before I get all fat and bloated and shit.”

Tai didn’t think Raven would be unattractive even when she was nine months along, but he pulled her over on top of him, then rolled her over so he was on top. “My turn.” He pushed into her again, and Raven licked her lips. “Fuck yeah, Tai!” she shouted. “Make me _more_ pregnant!”

At the front of the house, Summer Rose’s hand froze an inch from the door she had about to knock on. Neither Tai nor Raven had realized the window was open, and although it was on the opposite side of the house, she heard every word. 

“Oh,” Summer said softly. She smiled and laughed softly. She turned, slid down the door, and carefully pulled out a pair of earbuds. She put them in her ears—it was going to be tough to eat strawberry ice cream with Raven and Tai after she’d heard them having wild sex—and turned up the music on her Scroll. She’d give them about half an hour, then knock. 

Summer managed to convince herself that the tears drifting down her cheeks were those of happiness for her friends. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a downer ending there. Next time I'll write something fluffy in the Lusty Adventures of Blake and Yang...or maybe Salem and Emerald will resolve some of that tension. (I haven't forgotten the suggestion of "Emerald's Fun Dungeon.")


	51. Menage a Trois

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang and Blake have nothing to do and all day to do it in. Blake is buried in a book, and to tease her, Yang jokes about inviting over Sun Wukong. 
> 
> Neither thought the joke would go quite this far...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! This one was a blast to write, even if it's longer than the average "Love Hurts" chapter and took me three hours. It might be a tad predictable, but comedy sometimes is, and we laugh anyway. I hope. 
> 
> This idea came from Let Them Yang, and as soon as they posted the comment, I knew this was the story I had to write next.

It was a lazy day at Atlas Academy. (Considering what happens later, apparently there was a lot of lazy days between Team RWBY’s arrival and the fecal material hitting the revolving propeller. Also apparently there were about four or five months.) Weiss had gone shopping, and Ruby had tagged along because she wanted to buy something nice for herself—which surprised Weiss, because usually Ruby only shopped for ammunition and cookies. That left Yang and Blake alone in the dorm, with nothing to do, because it was their day off.

Though one could not have convinced either Ruby Rose or Weiss Schnee of the fact, Blake and Yang did not immediately jump each other’s bones the moment the other half of Team RWBY were out of earshot. In fact, the scene in the dorm room was rather boring: Blake was propped up in her bunk, reading _Ninjas of Love XI: Kunoichis Do Kyoto_ ; Yang was sitting at the computer, finishing up some team paperwork, and proving that she didn’t just play video games when she wasn’t blasting Grimm or making sweet love to her girlfriend. She tapped return and leaned back in the chair. After a minute of silence, Yang sighed. “Well, that’s done. Now I’m bored.”

“Uh huh,” Blake replied absently. She had raised the book a little higher to cover her blush. It was a particularly steamy scene in the book, where the main male character was ambushed by two kunoichis, female ninjas. They had decided to grant him a last request before he committed seppuku, and it was to make love to both of them. Blake’s mouth was dry. 

Yang smirked. Unknown to Blake, Yang had borrowed _Ninjas of Love XI_ for an Amity run and read it along the way—all the good parts, anyway. For Yang, the books were more hilarious than erotic, as they were so over the top, so ridiculous in their premise that she couldn’t take them seriously. Yang, however, knew Blake well enough, and guessed correctly where her friend was in the book, to know that she was getting a little turned on. Truth to tell, Yang wasn’t really in the mood for sex--another revelation that would’ve stunned the rest of Team RWBY, who tended to think that Yang was oversexed—but she _was_ in the mood to tease Blake. 

“Say, Blakey,” she said casually, inspecting her fingernails, “you know Team SSSN’s in town.”

“Uh huh,” Blake said, as she tried to loosen her shirt a little. It was hot in the room, all of a sudden.

“Yeah. They’re headed to Vacuo to link up with Team CFVY. Anyway, they’ll be here for a night or two.”

“Uh huh.” _Oh gods,_ Blake thought, trying not to pant, _he’s doing both of them at once. Is that even possible? How would it work?_

“So I was thinking…we should invite Sun over tonight. Weiss and Ruby will be gone for a few hours, and we could…y’know…have a threesome.”

Yang’s timing was perfect. Blake’s ears twitched, she nearly dropped the book, and her wide yellow eyes peered at her partner over the top of it. “ _What_ did you say?”

Yang winked. “You heard me. A threesome with Mr. Abs himself, Sun Wukong.” She hugged herself, as if shivering. “I’ve always wanted to know what he could do with that tail.” It occurred to her that Blake might actually know: after all, Sun and Blake had spent a lot of time together in Menagerie. She didn’t begrudge Sun or Blake if they had slept together; they probably needed it, and Yang had no claims on Blake at the time. But she didn’t ask, because that might be something Blake wouldn’t want to discuss.

“You’re _not_ serious,” Blake said.

“Sure, why not? You know, change of pace from our fingers. I bet Sun’s hung.”

“He is,” Blake blurted, and then closed her eyes in embarrassment. When she opened them, Yang was already at the side of her bunk, eyes wide. _“Really?_ Blake, tell me!”

Blake put aside the book. “His swim trunks came off when we were swimming one day. He’s…got plenty.”

“Wow.” Yang had only had two sexual partners before Blake, both guys, and neither memorable. 

Blake seemed to know what her friend was thinking, and smiled a little. “That’s the only time, Yang. We never slept together.”

“Hell, I wouldn’t have blamed you.” She sat on Blake’s bed, thinking about a naked Sun. Though Yang loved Blake, she wasn’t giving up on men entirely. Though her conscience nagged at her a little at that, telling her in a disturbingly Weiss-like voice that sleeping with Sun would be cheating on Blake. _But would it be cheating if Blake was there too?_ Yang thought. 

Blake knew _Yang_ well enough to know where the blonde’s thoughts were going, and decided that if Yang could tease her, she could tease right back. “I suppose we could,” she said. When Yang didn’t seem to notice, she added, “Have a threesome. With Sun. Or Neptune. Or really anyone with Team SSSN.”

“Scarlet’s gay.”

“Well, maybe _he_ wants a change of pace. For that matter, we could have them all over. Just have an orgy. Weiss might go for it. Ruby...probably not. She’s pretty devoted to Oscar. Unless they came over too, I suppose…”

Yang stared popeyed at her. “You’re kidding, right?”

"Duh. Took you long enough to realize it,” Blake laughed.

_Okay, Miss Teenage Ninja Faunus Catgirl,_ Yang thought, _I’ll fix you._ “Well, I’m not down for the orgy—the room’s too small anyway—but I am _all_ about the threesome with Sun.” She pulled her Scroll out of her pocket. “I’m gonna call him.” She opened the Scroll, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Blake nodded. _Nice try, Yang. I don’t bluff._ “Okay, go for it.”

“I’m going to do it.” Yang tapped in the first few numbers.

Blake snorted. “No, you’re not. You don’t have the balls.” Blake paused. “Figuratively speaking.”

Defiantly, Yang finished Sun’s number. It began to ring. Both women looked at each other, silently daring the other one to back down. Then Sun picked up. “Hey, Yang!”

“Sun!” Yang said with forced cheer. “How’re ya doing?”

“Living the dream. What’s up with you?”

Yang was no longer smiling. Her lilac eyes were fixed on Blake’s golden ones. The Faunus was the one who was smirking now. “Nothing much. Are you busy?”

“Nah! Actually kind of bored. We’re just hanging out. Maybe go down to Mantle and find a party or something. You want to do something?”

Yang hesitated. Blake mouthed _You wouldn’t dare._ Yang stuck her tongue out. “Sure! Why don’t you come up to our dorm! Just me and Blake here, yep…just the two of us.”

“Sure! Want me to grab the other guys?”

Blake went beet red. With horror, she realized that she’d pushed Yang too far. The brawler was likely to go through with the orgy idea. Blake knew that she was _not_ ready for that, and never would be. She didn’t know anyone who would be.

Thousands of miles away, Salem glanced up from her assault plans on Atlas. “What are you looking at me for?”

“Nah, that’s okay,” Yang said, to Blake’s visible relief. “It’s a small dorm room, even with Weiss and Ruby gone. Just come on up and we can…er…” She faltered. She couldn’t say it. “…we can play some Scroll games or something. Or just, uh, talk about the old days at Beacon or something.”

“Sure! Be over in a bit. They’ve got us on the other side of the Academy from you guys.” Sun clicked off, and Yang stared at her Scroll. “Blake?” she said with a slightly shaky voice. “Did I just talk us into a threesome?”

Blake sighed. “I think we both did.” 

“He’ll never go for it. Even if we brought it up. Which we totally won’t.”

“No, that’s crazy. Maybe individually, but he’d never go for a threesome.” Blake laughed nervously, trying to ignore her thumping heart. She loved Yang, no question, but unlike her lover, she had the image of Sun’s naked body imprinted on her brain. 

“Yeah, it’s totally nuts!” Yang had the same nervous laugh. “But…uh…what if he does?”

“Well, we’re not bringing it up, like you said, right?”

“Right. Totally not bringing it up. Like, at all.”

They stared at each other for a long minute, then a knock on the dorm room door made them both jump. Yang put her Scroll back, and quickly ran over to the door to open it. It was Sun Wukong, as they remembered him—same blue jeans, same white jacket, same tousled blonde hair, same easy smile, same abdominals one could bounce a lien off of. “Hey,” he said. 

“Hey yourself, Sun,” Yang returned. After she’d closed the door, he held out his hands for a hug, and Yang was more than happy to give it to him. Threesome or not, it was good to see him. Then a hug for Blake, longer and with a kiss on her forehead. Yang wasn’t jealous; the two Faunus had been through a lot in Menagerie. “Good to see you girls. We heard the train got hit by Grimm. We were pretty worried about you guys, but you made it okay!”

Neither girl felt like bringing up Jinn, the terror of Brunswick Farms, or what had happened at Argus. Especially not the latter. “Yeah,” Blake smiled. “Glad to see you’re okay too. How’s the team?”

“We’re doing great. Heading out day after tomorrow though. Coco and Team CFVY really ran into some big-time Grimm probs in Vacuo.” He sat down on Blake’s bunk while she sat next to him, at a polite distance, and Weiss grabbed some soda from the dorm’s refrigerator. They caught up while they drank, and when they were halfway through, Yang said, “So, what did you want to do?”

Sun shrugged. “I dunno. I’m game for just about anything. Heck, we can just sit around and BS.” He laughed. “The guys are going to be disappointed, though. They think I’m over here having a threesome! Can you believe that?”

Yang and Blake nearly spit their soda across the room. They looked at each other, eyes wide, and neither could keep from blushing. Sun caught their expressions, and his laughter faded. “Hey, wait a second. You two weren’t really…” He laughed again, a tad too loudly. “Nah, that’s crazy!” Yang found something fascinating on the ceiling, and Blake covered her face with her hands. “Hold on, you _were_ thinking about that?” Sun said incredulously.

“Nope!” Yang half-yelled, still not looking at him. “Totally wasn’t thinking that!” Blake didn’t trust herself to say anything.

Contrary to popular belief, Sun Wukong was not an idiot. He was a skilled Huntsman who knew body language, an experienced fighter. And to his stunned disbelief, both Blake Belladonna’s and Yang Xiao Long’s body language was telling him they _had_ invited him over for sex, and were now getting cold feet. It wasn’t entirely a correct guess, but it was pretty close.

There was embarrassed silence in the room for a few minutes, then Sun, after a quick pull of soda-laced courage, said quietly, “I mean…I’m not against the idea.”

Yang stared at him. “Are you fucking serious?” She realized that wasn’t the right choice of words.

“Well…yeah.” Sun shrugged, not looking at either one. “I mean…who wouldn’t want to, with the two most beautiful girls on Remnant?”

Holding the stop sign for the children in the crosswalk, Jaune Arc suddenly sneezed. “Bless you!” called out the six moms.

Yang unconsciously rubbed her thighs together. “I guess…if Blake…”

Blake had yet to remove her hands from covering her face. “Sure,” she said, her voice muffled, “if Yang wants to.”

Sun looked from one to the other, and swallowed, trying to get some saliva going. He hadn’t been expecting this. Nonetheless, he made the decision, knowing if he didn’t and he lived to be a hundred, he’d look back and wish he had. “All right, then.” He stood, and shrugged off his jacket, then took off his tennis shoes, then went to unbuckle his pants. Yang jumped out of her seat, went over to Blake, grabbed her hands, and pulled them away, forcing Blake to look. Not that Blake took much convincing. 

Sun was nervous, and wondered if he was about to wake up with his teammates laughing at him. He figured he’d better enjoy it while the dream lasted, though—and make sure that this wasn’t a practical joke, and Weiss and Ruby weren’t hiding in the bathroom. So he put on his finest grin, and slowly pulled down the jeans. Blake’s eyes were so wide he was worried they would fall out of her skull, and Yang’s feet were bouncing on the floor. Then, just as slowly, he stepped out of the jeans, and pulled down his boxers, agonizingly creeping along, exposing the lowest abs, then the tangle of blond hairs, then the semi-hard member. It popped out of the waistband as he lowered his underwear. Blake gave the tiniest of whines, like a kitten, while Yang’s mouth fell open. “Holy schneet,” she breathed.

He stepped out of the boxers and slid them behind, then half-turned and struck a pose, flexing his muscles—all of them. Nosebleeds didn’t actually happen in real life, but if they did, both Blake and Yang would’ve bled to death. They slowly turned to look at each other, then they got up as one, and threw off their jackets. 

Sun realized then that it was no joke, but he was going to roll with it. “Hold on, ladies.” He closed his eyes, concentrated, and put his hands together. Two golden clones of Sun appeared, both walked to Blake and Yang, and began efficiently stripping them. As they did so, they brushed up against thighs and nipples, sending electric thrills through both of the girls. When they were finished and dissipated, both Yang and Blake were standing next to puddles of clothing, without a stitch between them. Sun opened his eyes and blinked. “Wow. I mean, I knew what Blake looked like na—“ He stopped himself, a fraction too late.

Blake narrowed her eyes at him. The air went from warm and sexual to cold and arctic in a second. “Finish that sentence, please?”

“Er…you were sunbathing nude that day on your balcony…and I, uh…I didn’t mean to…well…”

Blake’s ears flattened back in anger, then she relaxed, and smiled. “I guess that’s okay. I mean, I saw _you_ naked that time at the beach, when your trunks came off in the wave, and—“ Blake stopped, and her eyes rounded again, but not in lusty fascination. “Oh gods, Sun! My _mother_ was sunbathing with me that day!”

“Nope! Didn’t see her!” Sun yelled. “I mean, Mrs. B is damn good looking, but she’s a married woman, and—“

Yang knew that the erotic mood was about to evaporate like a snow cone in the Vacuo desert; getting stripped by Sun’s Semblance had already got her wet, and the two idiot Faunus were about to screw everything up. “Hey!” she snapped. “Are we going to do this threesome thing or not? We’re all naked here, you know!” She stared down at Sun’s erection. Blake had not been exaggerating. Yang didn’t have a library of penises to compare, but Sun’s was the biggest she’d seen, by far. 

“You’re right, you’re right,” Blake said, shaking the nauseating mental image of Sun and her mother together. Then they were silent for a moment, all three looking at each other, and coming to the same conclusion: none of them knew what to do next. 

“Uh…” Yang began. “Which one of us should go first?”

Blake swallowed nervously. “Er, you mean…which one should…er…s-s-stick it in?” She didn’t know how else to put it.

“Any preference?” Yang asked Sun.

“Er…” Sun didn’t know how to answer that question. On one hand, he’d wanted Blake since the moment he’d first seen her, though he was afraid of ruining their friendship to make a move at Menagerie. (And the bloody, broken mess Ghira would’ve left of him.) He had missed her long, raven hair--not that the short bob made her less attractive--and her body was athletic and perfect. On the other hand, Yang had a body that would stop Salem in her tracks, and while he’d seen Blake nude, he’d just had a fantasy about Yang Xiao Long. And the fantasy was nothing like the real article. And he’d always had a thing for natural blondes. It was a win-win situation—or lose-lose, since he didn’t want to disappoint either of them, if he chose the other. “I don’t know,” he finally said helplessly.

There was another awkward moment of silence, and Yang suddenly grabbed a half-lien coin off the table. “We’ll flip for it. Heads or tails, Blake?”

“Um, heads.” Blake knew that Yang was feeling as nervous as she was; that was a pun even Ruby wouldn’t have passed up.

Yang flipped the coin upwards, and it landed tails on the carpet. “Well…I guess I’ll go.” _Gods, I hope it’ll fit,_ Yang thought, though she was looking forward to finding out. She walked up to Sun, then stopped. “Uh, Sun…you want top or bottom?”

“I’ll take bottom. Bottom position,” he hastily added. Yang did have a rather nice rear end, but he didn’t want her to take it the wrong way. The statement, that is. “You can be on top.” They both looked at the bunks. There wasn’t enough room. Yang and Blake managed, but it was rather different when they made love. “I guess we can use the floor…”

“Sure.” Sun lay down on the floor, his erection sticking straight up. As Yang maneuvered around, trying to find the best way to fit, Blake watched, then abruptly put her hands behind her back. Unconsciously, they had found themselves reaching for her own crotch. 

Yang noticed. “Well, damn,” she said. “Blake, it’s not fair to you to just stand there and watch.”

“No, it’s okay,” Blake insisted. “I can go second. Or something.”

Sun gulped. “Uh, no offense, ladies, but I don’t know if I can go twice. Not at least without some rest. I’m not _that_ good.”

“Well, I can, um, ride for a bit, then Blake can hop on.” Yang grimaced the moment she finished the sentence; it sounded like they were talking about riding a horse. _Though that’s not that far off of a comparison,_ she mused.

Sun didn’t know if he could do that, either. “Okay, how about this? Yang, you, uh, hop on, and Blake, well, you come over here, and…you know…on my face.” To his consternation, he was turning bright red too.

Yang straddled him. “I never realized threesomes were so much damn work.”

Blake, shaking so badly that she gripped her hands together, came over and knelt next to Sun. She couldn’t decide if she was turned on or terrified. “Um, Sun?”

“Yeah?” Sun cracked his knuckles, got the kinks out of his shoulders. He was going to give of his best. 

“Do you want me facing Yang, or facing away? I mean…my butt might be in your face if I’m looking at Yang…”

Sun felt himself twitch at the thought of being that close to the the legendary Bellabooty. “Facing Yang!” he exclaimed in a half-strangled yell.

Yang checked her thighs. She was going to be banging Sun Wukong and in a position to make out with Blake Belladonna. _I’m not dripping, but I’m surprised,_ she thought. _Woo doggies._ She gripped his member, wondering if maybe they should’ve held off on this; after Sun and Blake at the same time, there would be no worlds left to conquer. 

Blake tried not to whimper as she positioned herself over Sun. A bolt of pure lust shot from her groin to her brain, as she saw Sun spread out beneath her, and a naked and very aroused Yang right across from her. Then she _did_ whimper, as Sun’s hands gripped her thighs and Yang gently guided Sun into her, opening herself up and—

“Wait!” Blake yelled. Everyone stopped. Blake closed her eyes and felt like she was going to cry. “We can’t do this.”

“Mmpf?” Sun said, literally three inches from the promised land.

“The fuck we _can’t!”_ Yang growled. Her earlier nervousness was suddenly gone, replaced by a consuming need for Sun to fill every inch of her. 

“No, Yang, Sun, think!” Blake exclaimed, the haze of lust clearing like the smoke from a forest fire. “Sun, do you have protection?”

He pushed Blake away a few more inches so he could be heard. “Uhm, no. I wasn’t exactly expecting this.”

“Neither were we!” Blake pointed at Yang. “We haven’t been using contraception, Yang! We’ve only been with each other. Not like Ruby and Oscar or Weiss and Jaune!”

Sun was shocked. “Whoa. Ruby’s banging Oscar? And Weiss and Jaune?” He whistled. He’d have to compliment both men. While Blake and Yang were the most beautiful girls he knew, Ruby and Weiss weren’t exactly slouches. 

Yang almost defiantly rammed herself down on Sun, but she knew what Blake was getting at. She could tell that Sun was not going to last long, and she didn’t trust either of them to stop before he came. And if he was inside…Yang remembered the pregnancy scare that Ruby had with Oscar. They’d dodged a bullet there, and while her kids with Sun would be cute, it would definitely complicate things. Carefully, she pushed Sun back and sat down on his thighs. “Well, now what?” Then she smiled. “Never mind. I got an idea.”

“What? What are you thinking _offfffff_ —“ Sun nearly threw Blake backwards as Yang took his erection and fastened her lips over it. Blake stared, watching Yang go to work on Sun like he was an ice cream cone. Yang took her mouth away long enough to say, “Hey, you two! You gonna do something or just sit there?”

Sun got the message. He pulled Blake back down, and the Faunus’ eyes crossed as his tongue suddenly plunged into her folds. He was very glad his pecs were every bit as tight as his abs, as Blake’s hands gripped for purchase. _Gods, she’s wet,_ he thought, his last coherent thought as Yang began licking him from base camp to summit. He grabbed the Bellabooty like a life preserver. 

“ _Ahhh!”_ Blake suddenly moaned, throwing her head back, trembling, not quite at her peak but getting close. Yang laughed and put her lips around the swollen head, teasing with her tongue. The combination would have been too much for any man. Sun took his lips away from Blake just long enough to gasp “Yang!” in warning.

Yang took her lips away; Sun was her friend and all, but she wasn’t the type to swallow on the first threesome. She gripped him tighter, and grinned at him, though she couldn’t see. Blake was gasping, leaning backwards. _Whoa,_ Yang thought, _that’s got to be the most frigging erotic thing I’ve ever—_

And the door to the dorm room opened, in an event that should have surprised no one.

Neither Sun nor Blake noticed—Sun, with his face buried in Blake’s most intimate area, and Blake, with her eyes closed in ecstasy. Yang did, and froze in shock, though not nearly as shocked as Ruby and Weiss were.

“ _Yang!”_ Sun groaned, and ejaculated right into Yang’s face. She jumped backwards, but not before Sun had splattered her twice. 

Weiss, to her credit, recovered quickly. She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Just when I thought I’d seen everything with you two. Three,” she corrected herself. “Hello, Sun.”

Sun heard Weiss’ voice, pulled Blake out of the way enough to see, even as his penis continued to pulse. Blake, abruptly wrenched from nirvana, opened her eyes. Weiss was no longer stunned, nor was she embarrassed; her expression was one of faint disgust.

All attention went to Ruby, whose silver eyes were so wide that if there had been Grimm within five miles, they’d be ashes. Ruby blinked thrice, her lower lip trembled, then she exploded in laughter. She doubled over, pointing at Yang. “You…he’s…all over…oh my gods!” Ruby slipped and fell over on her back, screaming with hilarity. “Yang…oh…and Blake…and _Sun!”_ She was now pounding the floor. “Ha! Now you know what it’s like!” she struggled out. “Oh gods, I gotta tell Oscar!”

Weiss shook her head, feeling like the only sane person in a lunatic asylum. Without a further word, she closed the door. Behind it, they could still hear Ruby howling. 

Sun scooted out from under Blake and sat up. “Uh…what did she mean? Has this happened before?”

“You have no idea,” Yang groaned. “Blake, hon…can you do me a favor?”

Blake sagged to her knees, her body wanting release, but now unable to have it. “Sure,” she said sadly.

“Get me a towel.” Yang looked murderously at the door. “And then Ember Celica, so I can _murder_ my sister.” 

Sun got to his feet. “I’ll get the towel.” He walked into the bathroom, grabbed the first towel he saw, dried himself off, then grabbed another and tossed it to Yang. He found a clothes hamper and was about to throw the towel into it when he noticed the monogrammed _W_ on it. _I’m a dead Faunus,_ he thought, opened the hamper, and stuffed the towel under the clothes piled in it. Maybe Weiss wouldn’t notice.

Yang wiped off her face and the carpet—luckily, it was one of her towels—and sat crosslegged. “I don’t fucking believe this,” she growled.

“I do,” Blake said. “And it is sort of justice. You know, for when we surprised Ruby when she got off with that nubbed condom thing.”

Sun sat down next to them. He wanted to ask about Ruby and the condom, but he felt that could wait. “I feel like I should apologize. To you two.”

“Why?” Yang asked.

“Not fair that I’m the only one who…well…”

Yang suddenly got a sly look, and turned to Blake. “Well, Blakey here was awfully close.”

“Don’t remind me!” Blake pleaded.

Yang looked at Sun. “Y’know, Weiss is nice enough to not come back for a bit—it sounds weird to say Weiss and nice in the same sentence—and I can always kill Ruby in her sleep. So we got time enough to get someone else off, at least.” Sun shared her slow smile, and both looked at Blake. 

Blake drew back a little. “Uh…you mean…both of you?”

Yang and Sun got on all fours and began stalking her like a pair of Beowolves. “Gonna get you, Blake,” Yang snickered. Both of them suddenly darted out and grabbed her feet.

Blake let herself lean back, and decided she was the luckiest girl on Remnant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of the hat tip to "Gold Digger" and Fred Perry here, for inspiration. 
> 
> Wait a minute. Does Salem realize she's in a fanfic? Uh oh.


	52. The Magic Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oscar Pine isn't feeling too confident about himself. Why would someone like Ruby Rose like a simple farmhand like him? Is there some magic he could learn? Would Ruby prefer someone like Jaune or Ren? 
> 
> Luckily, Ozpin is there to give Oscar some assurance, and some advice. And he's not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a combination of a few ideas from Maswartz, and something nice and fluffy. I think we all need nice and fluffy at the moment...

Oscar Pine sighed. He lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling of his dorm room, wondering how he’d ever gotten himself into this situation. Of course, he really hadn’t. He’d been happy as a farmhand, helping his aunt work her land. All he’d ever wanted was a place of his own, a field to till, and maybe a beautiful wife and a few children, to carry on the Pine line.

Then he’d woken up one day with a voice in his head, and found out he was the direct descendant of the legendary ancient warrior Ozma, and worse, the reincarnation of such. Not only that, the voice in his head was the last reincarnation, Headmaster Ozpin of Beacon. He’d been thrust into a life-or-death battle against an enemy that couldn’t be killed, using powers he didn’t understand, alongside people he didn’t know. At least he’d made progress on the latter two. Team RWBY and Team JNR were his friends now, the best friends he’d ever had. 

And then there was Ruby Rose.

At first he hadn’t known what to make of her. She was two years older than him, but still the closest to his age. She’d shared some of his awkwardness: though she was deadly with her scythe, she wasn’t much in the hand-to-hand department. They’d grown to like each other, though, and somewhere along the line the friendliness had turned into affection, and now Oscar was pretty sure it was love. “But does she love me?” he wondered aloud.

_Of course she does._

Oscar smiled at the voice. Recently, Ozpin had made himself known again, after retreating deep into the recesses of Oscar’s mind and soul. Neither had told Team RWBY this, or anyone else; Ozpin was feeling guilt for keeping things from his Huntsmen and Huntresses. “How do you know?” Oscar asked the disembodied voice.

_Oscar, when you’re as old as I am—was—and you have access to all the memories that I do—and you will, eventually—you know love when you see it._

“Yeah, but does she _really_ love me?”

_Ah. You are wondering “Would Ruby Rose retire from being a Huntress and consent to becoming your wife on the farm?” The answer to that is no, I’m afraid. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you any less._

Oscar sighed again. “Yeah, but maybe it’s just because I’m available.”

_That’s not true, my young friend. When it comes to lovers, Ruby could’ve looked elsewhere. Jaune Arc was her traveling companion for almost a year, and he was unattached until just recently—and honestly still is. Weiss Schnee likes him, but I do not think she loves him. Ruby could have chosen Jaune. Or perhaps someone else. But she chose you—and you, her._

Oscar laughed. “Come on, Ozpin. She came into my room that night buck naked except for her cape. What was I supposed to do?”

_You initially refused her, and said she was coming on too strong._

He snorted derisively. “And two minutes later, I was taking her virginity.” 

_Oscar, think. Do you truly believe that Ruby is using you just for sex? I’ll grant you that she’s very enthusiastic. I suspect it’s because she now knows what sex is and finds it quite enjoyable._ Ozpin laughed. _Before you ask, no, I have never spied on you. But I would indeed be dead if I didn’t notice the way she looks at you, before and after. But she enjoys making love to_ you, _Oscar; it’s not just having sex with a random penis._

Oscar turned over in the bed, which left him staring at the room’s tiny closet. “But why me, Professor? I’m just a farm boy. Yeah, I’m the reincarnation of Ozma, but that doesn’t make me more attractive! I’m kind of plain.”

_A plain boy that I recall being gang-tackled by every female in Team RWBY and JNR._

Oscar felt a twinge of remembered pain at that. Being buried under Ruby Rose, Nora Valkyrie, Yang Xiao Long, Weiss Schnee, and Blake Belladonna might sound like every teenager’s fantasy, but in reality, he worried he’d be smothered to death. “Okay, fine. I’m cute. That’s what they say, anyway. But that’s not, you know, handsome. And I’m not muscular.”

_You seem rather toned to me, from working on the farm._

“Yeah, but I’m not…even Jaune has more muscles than me.”

_Perhaps Ruby is not in love with your muscles._

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Well, she’s not in love with my mind, either. I didn’t even finish school. I didn’t go to a fancy academy like Atlas or Vale.”

_So?_

“So…” Oscar rolled back over, frustrated. “So I don’t see what she sees in me, Professor.”

_Why don’t you ask her?_

“You can’t just ask a girl that!” Oscar exclaimed.

_Of course you can,_ Ozpin answered. _Which one of us is more experienced with women, Oscar?_

Oscar glowered at the ceiling. Ozpin definitely had him there. Then he thought of something. “Professor…is there a way to make me…more…attractive?”

_I don’t follow you. There is exercise, good nutrition, plenty of rest—_

“No, I mean…like magic.”

Ozpin was quiet for a moment, then his voice came back stern. _Oscar, do not abuse magic. Magic is not a shortcut. It will not make up for personal failures. Salem believes that—or she once did—and she was tragically wrong. Trying to use magic to appear more…”buff” will only end badly._

“But—“

_No buts. Remember when you botched the love spell?_

“Ow. Yeah.” Oscar felt another twinge of remembered pain, though this time it wasn’t in his back, but his groin. He’d convinced Ozpin to teach a calming spell, so he wouldn’t panic during combat, but in the shock of seeing a sans-underwear Ruby Rose, he’d misprounced the magic words—and cast a lust spell on Ruby instead. Though her attacking him had been kind of fun, he’d never look at the Long Memory in quite the same way again. “So I guess asking you for a multiple orgasm spell would be a bad idea.”

_It would. And in any case, Oscar, I don’t know that spell. Salem studied lust magic, so perhaps she knows it, but I don’t think it’s worth the long journey to Evernight Castle to ask._

Oscar was abruptly reminded that his ancestor Ozma had been the loving husband of Salem. The thought made his stomach churn. “Yeah, I’m definitely not doing that.”

_Besides, I never needed to learn such a spell. I was always capable of doing such things without magic._

Oscar blinked. “Uh…you mean…”

_Well now, look at the time, my young friend! Ha ha! Yes, things to see, people to do._ Ozpin’s voice sounded a bit frantic. _I’ll just be going now. Besides, isn’t Ruby coming to visit you tonight? You can merely ask her then. Tell her the truth—there’s been far too many secrets kept as of late as it is._

“She said she’d stop by later. They had another Amity run today.” It was silent in the room for a moment, and then Oscar said, “Professor Ozpin?”

_Yes?_

“I understand that you won’t teach me any, er, love magic, and that’s okay. But can you at least give me some advice? Or…well…maybe some _other_ reincarnation can? I mean, can I _talk_ to the other versions of Ozma—of us?”

Ozpin was quiet for awhile. _I’m afraid that’s not how it works. You can’t merely call up one of our former lives, like you would on a Scroll. But you can ask me. I remember everything. You will too, sooner or later._

Oscar was afraid of that day. He worried that the various Ozmas would simply destroy Oscar Pine, and he’d forget everything of his former life. Ozpin had assured him that wasn’t going to happen, but he worried all the same. Oscar sat up on his bed, drew his knees up to his chest, and rested his head on his knees. “I just wish I knew…what to do. If maybe I’m doing right by Ruby. Okay, I can’t use magic to be exotic. But maybe I can get some advice or something? Something that just turns girls on, and makes…you know…better for them?” Oscar chuckled softly. “Heh. All those reincarnations, and none of us knows how girls think, huh?”

Ozpin paused again. _That’s actually…not quite true._

_Centuries Prior_

“ _DIE, OZMA!”_ Purple annihilation flew from Salem’s hands, across the deserted tavern. Tables flew to pieces in the spell’s wake, and the naked man, raising his hands, had his scream cut off when the purple bolt hit him. There was the briefest of sizzling, and then the disgusting stench of burned human being filled the tavern. Salem glided forward over the broken remains of tables and chairs, and stood over the black puddle that had once been Ozma’s latest reincarnation. She smiled down at it, remembering the agony of the night they had destroyed each other, their castle, and their children. Ozma’s fireball had melted Salem—but the gods’ curse wouldn’t even be broken by that. She simply reformed, but it had been extremely painful. “I hope it hurt, you bastard,” she snarled, and spit into the steaming, stinking puddle.

Salem turned and saw the barmaid, clutching a dress in front of her nudity, her eyes wide at the witch and what she had just done. She debated on whether or not to reduce the barmaid to the same protoplasm she’d just reduced Ozma to—or whatever his name was this time around. She decided against it; such spells did take a bit out of her, and the barmaid was of no consequence. That didn’t mean she couldn’t put some true fear into the girl, though; Salem did enjoy watching people scream in horror. Besides, she wanted to see who Ozma or Ozona or Ozytocin or whatever was sleeping with, and compare it to her own otherwordly beauty.

With a gesture of magic, Salem tore the dress out of the barmaid’s hands and into the fireplace. She regarded the girl. Brown hair falling to the pale shoulders, framing a cute if not beautiful face, and between the legs, which were surprisingly long, well-formed, and toned. Breasts about the size of Salem’s, with slightly larger nipples. Smooth stomach. Freckles. Except for the muscular tone, the barmaid had the corn-fed, scrubbed look of a farmgirl who was starting her career at the bottom.

Salem stepped closer. “Well, well, well. So you’re his new _lover._ ” She filled the word with venom. “And last, at least for awhile.” She ran a cold finger down from the chin to the coarse curls below. “What’s good for Ozma must be good for me. Perhaps I should sample the wares.” Salem loosened her robe a little. In actuality, she had no intention of seducing the girl; she just wanted to hear the barmaid whimper and protest. Salem had taken lovers of all genders in the past, but after turning Ozma’s reincarnation into base elements, she wasn’t in the mood. Contrary to popular belief, Salem was not turned on by murder.

To the witch’s surprise, the barmaid looked back at her defiantly, with green, gold-flecked eyes. Salem’s amused smile faded. “Well,” the barmaid said with a faint smile, “it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Salem cocked her head to one side in confusion, then looked at the puddle on the floor, then back to the barmaid. Then she repeated the motion. “Wait…” She peered closer at the girl. “Ozma?”

“Ozphelia,” the girl corrected. She pointed towards the puddle. “You just killed my date, Salem. And just when it was getting good!” She brushed past Salem, walked naked to one of the corner tables, pulled out adventurers’ clothes, and began getting dressed. “Gods, you bitch. The first time in a _year_ that I’ve had a chance to get laid, and you ruin it.”

Salem was still a little stunned. “Ozphelia,” she repeated. “You mean…you reincarnated…as a _woman?”_

Ozphelia gave Salem a withering look. “What, did the gods say something about me always coming back as a guy?”

“No, you never mentioned that when…when you were Ozma. I just sort of assumed.” 

Ozphelia shook her head. “Sexist.”

Salem pondered that for a moment, then looked at Ozphelia. “Well. This is awkward.”

_Back in the Present_

Oscar was now sitting up straight. “Wait, wait. So Ozphelia was a girl? So could she—er, her memories—maybe give me some pointers? You know, about what girls like for guys to do, and what girls feel, and things like that?”

_I’m not sure, but Oscar, think for a moment. Has Ruby ever left your room unsatisfied?_

“I don’t know.”

Oscar could have sworn that he could feel Ozpin’s stare. _Oscar._

“Okay, I guess she hasn’t. I mean…she’s always…she’s always, uh…you know.”

_And does she seem happy afterwards?_

Oscar smiled wistfully. “Yeah.” Then he nodded. “Yeah, she does.”

_Then I think Ozphelia would tell you that it doesn’t matter if she told you what girls like, or what girls feel. You already know what_ Ruby _likes and feels, and that’s what counts._

Oscar gave that some thought. “That makes sense.”

_Good. Thus endeth the lesson…mainly because Ruby is at your front door._ Sure enough, there was the polite yet insistent knock he’d come to associate with her. _Have fun,_ Ozpin laughed. _I’ll check up on you later. Much later._

Ruby Rose walked into the room, looking like the fourth day of a three-day bender. Like she’d just fought every Grimm on Remnant with a can opener. Like she’d been run through a wringer, twice. “Ruby?” Oscar asked with concern. “Are you okay?”

“No.” Ruby turned and flopped onto the bed. “Oscar, that was the worst Amity run _ever._ Long stretches of boring, then we had to fight some Grimm—no big deal on that; I wanted to kiss them for stopping me being bored. And then the stupid Happy Hooligans or whatever they’re called showed up and gave us some shit. I want to punch that smug Robyn right in the face!” Ruby jumped to her feet, swayed dangerously, and began to undress, starting with her boots.

Oscar was already in a T-shirt and sweats. He’d learned the hard way that, when dealing with an amorous Ruby Rose, it was best to have something that was easy to remove. “Ruby, you’re exhausted. You can’t want to make love now.”

“I’m never too tired—“ She was cut off by a yawn. “I’m never too tired for that.” Clothes flew to all directions, until Ruby was naked. She walked around the bed to Oscar, trying a sexy walk. It didn’t quite work—mainly because Ruby simply didn’t have the poise to pull it off, she stumbled once, and she kept yawning. She kissed him, and growled playfully. “So what do you want to do?” she whispered. Oscar looked into those beautiful silver eyes. Except at the moment, they were bloodshot silver eyes, and they shined not just with love, but fatigue. 

_Give her a massage._ Oscar started at the voice. It was Ozpin’s, but it wasn’t. It had the professor’s cadence, but it was softer, almost feminine. No, Oscar corrected himself, it _was_ feminine. Then the voice repeated itself, so faint he could barely sense it. _What are you waiting for?_

“Ruby, would you like a massage?” Oscar had done it before, and Ruby seemed to like them.

She smiled and kissed him. “I would love one.” She stretched and cracked her knuckles. “Got to limber up for the main event!” She climbed onto the bed, lay down on her stomach, and closed her eyes, pillowing her head on her arms. “I’m going to rock your world tonight, Oscar.” She then began to go into extremely graphic detail on what she was going to do to him. It wasn’t so much erotic as it was astounding, and Oscar was pretty sure he wasn’t that flexible. 

He began massaging her shoulders. He could feel the tension in them, and their definition; throwing a 20-pound scythe around was as good as all the gyms in Remnant. Ruby sighed happily as Oscar moved down her back. 

Oscar wondered if he should tell her. He couldn’t tell her about Ozpin—not yet, not when Team RWBY was still upset over the lies Ozpin had told. But he could make up something, that he had found out that one of Ozma’s reincarnations had been female. He could just tell the truth without mentioning Ozpin’s part in it. Ruby would probably like the story of Ozphelia…unless she thought it would be creepy. Oscar shook his head. No, he decided, Ruby would enjoy it.

“Ruby, I found out something really interesting today. Did you know that Ozma reincarnated as a girl once? Yeah, weird, right? Her name was…” Oscar’s voice trailed off. “Ruby? Ruby, did you hear me?”

Ruby was sound asleep, a smile still on her face. Oscar hesitantly worked on her lower back, even dared to run his hands over her rather cute rear end. Ruby didn’t react, other than just a slight, unconscious rise to meet his hands. 

Oscar sat back, then laughed softly. He got off the bed, pulled off his sweats, T-shirt and boxers, then got into bed next to her. Ruby turned over in her sleep, snuggling against him, seeking his warmth. He pulled the covers over both of them, and put his arms around her. Ruby’s smile broadened. “What do you want to do…” she murmured, still asleep.

“I want to just hold you, Ruby Rose,” Oscar said, kissing her forehead. “That’s enough for now.” He closed his eyes, and fell asleep with the knowledge he’d done exactly the right thing.

Somewhere deep in the soul of Oscar Pine, Ozpin leaned back and crossed his arms. (Metaphysically speaking.) “He’s a quick learner, this boy.”

Ozphelia Pineallas appeared and leaned up next to him. “Yeah, not bad reincarnation this time. Better than that drunk guy. Needs to learn where the G-spot is, though.”

Ozpin laughed. “Well, that always takes awhile to learn, Ozphelia.”

She giggled. “Sure is fun practicing, though.” She stared upwards, into nothingness, or into everything. “Yeah, he’s going to do just fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww...they're so cute. So sweet your teeth hurt.
> 
> The idea that Ozma might not have always reincarnated as a guy just popped into my head while rewatching some RWBY Season 5 for "On RWBY Wings." I thought her meeting Salem, with Salem completely unaware of the fact, might be pretty funny. 
> 
> Keep them ideas coming in! I'm not running out of material, but I'm always on the lookout for inspiration. I intend to write "Love Hurts" for as long as the story doesn't become boring or a chore to write (it isn't), but I'm thinking about taking October off from the story--but not from writing silly stuff. I'm thinking "31 Days of RWBY Halloween"...


	53. Set Adrift On Memory Bliss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang and Blake are lying together one night, when they start talking about their first time. Yang regrets it, because Blake's first lover was Adam Taurus. To her surprise, Blake wants to talk about it.
> 
> Turns out first times can be funny and awkward, even with Adam Taurus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halfway through writing this, I almost stopped and scrapped it. Adam Taurus is such a terrible person, that it's hard to write the guy in a somewhat serious way, aside from silly OOC chapters or where he's banging Cinder. But I went ahead and finished it, because it's a story I wanted to tell for awhile. So this is kind of "Mood Whiplash: The Fanfic." But like Blake says, Adam wasn't always a monster. The idea that he might have once been a shy teenager fumbling around in the dark appealed to me.
> 
> A couple of references to "One Night in Atlas" in here, but nothing where you have to read that (though please do). I always had the idea that Yang wasn't a virgin by the time she got to Beacon, and a fling with someone from Team CRDL just sounds like something Yang would do.

It was quiet in the dorm room of Team RWBY. Weiss was spending the night with her sister Winter, while an exhausted Ruby had managed to drag herself to Oscar’s room, where she had intended to make some sweet love, but instead ended up sweetly passing out. 

That left Yang and Blake all alone. 

Usually leaving Yang and Blake all alone meant that something wild, crazy and lusty would happen: naked wrestling, ice clone shenanigans, and even a threesome with Sun Wukong. This night should have been no different: they had stripped naked and were now lying together in Yang’s bunk. But once they were there, they weren’t sure what to do, how to start, or what would be different and fun.

“Want to just lay here and snuggle?” Yang asked.

“Sure,” Blake replied.

They lay there for a few minutes in silence, Yang with her hands behind her head, Blake with hers cradled over her stomach. “Well, Blake…I guess this is love,” Yang said.

Blake rolled over on her side. “I suppose so, Yang. I thought we’d pretty much established that at this point.” 

“Nah, not that. It’s that I’m lying here, buck naked and staring at the ceiling, and I’m _not_ having sex. I’m just…snuggling.”

Blake giggled. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Just super weird. Something old married people do.” She rolled over to face Blake and grinned. “Tell me a bedtime story, Blake.”

“Oh, no,” Blake told her, shaking a finger. “Last time I did that, you got me to admit that I thought boy Faunus had barbed penises when I was a kid.”

Yang laughed. “Hey, that was funny.” She booped Blake on the nose. “Okay, Blakey, you can ask me something embarassing.”

Blake gave that some thought. “Your first time having sex.”

“With myself or with someone else?”

“Someone else.”

Yang was glad Blake had asked for the latter. Her first solo sexual experience had involved setting her bed on fire; it turned out that her hair ignited not just when she was angry. She’d managed to get _that_ part of her Semblance under control, at least. She shrugged. “That’ll be a short story. There was this guy I’d had my eye on for awhile at Signal; his name was Steve. Steven Magnet or something...he was pretty hot. Nice guy, too. When we graduated and I was heading off to Beacon, I decided that night was the night. His parents were gone on business, so we went over to his place. Got naked, he slaps on a condom, and he puts it right in. Poor guy; didn’t last more than 30 seconds.”

“Poor guy indeed.” Blake looked Yang up and down. Most of her lover was hidden under the sheet, but she knew what lay beneath. “A hot natural blonde? Most guys would kill for that.” She propped her head up on one arm. “Did it hurt?”

“Yeah, a little bit. I thought it would hurt more, but it wasn’t too bad. It felt pretty good for about 15 seconds.” Yang sighed. “I didn’t get off, though. Oh, I acted like I did—I think I did a pretty good job, too. I didn’t want him to feel bad, so I moaned and screamed my head off after he came.” She laughed again. “Hell, we were kids, basically—I was 15. All we knew about sex was whacking it and watching porn. We thought that was how it was supposed to go. Anyway, we kind of snuggled for a bit—“ they both snorted at that “—and then got dressed and played video games the rest of the night. I don’t know why he didn’t try for a second go, but maybe he was disappointed too.” Yang lay back on her pillow. “Anyway, I left for Beacon the next day. Dad still doesn’t know I’m not a virgin, though I think he suspects. I banged Dove Bronzewing at Beacon a few times, and then, I ended up in a relationship with this Blake chick. You probably don’t know her.”

Blake snickered. “Never heard of her. How was Dove?”

Yang’s smile became wistful. “He was pretty damn good, I have to admit.” She poked Blake in the breast. “Before you ask, you’re better.”

“Thank you,” Blake said sarcastically.

Yang winked at her. “Okay, your turn. What was your first time like?” Then Yang abruptly remembered who Blake’s first—and only other—lover had been. “Oh, shit, Blake. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

Blake was quiet for a moment, then shook her head. “No, Yang, it’s okay.” Then she also got a wistful smile. “You know…I think I can talk about Adam now. It’s different, now that I’m back with Team RWBY…and with you.”

“Ugh. Let’s talk about someone else than that asshole.” Yang liked the playful mood that had developed between them, and didn’t want to ruin it.

“Actually, I _want_ to talk about it, Yang. I think…I think it will help. Besides, you _did_ ask.”

Yang hesitated. Adam Taurus was always going to be in the background of their relationship. Yang would remember him every time she looked in the mirror and saw the metal and plastic that was now her right arm below the elbow. She’d stopped having nightmares about him, and knew Blake had as well. Still, to the day she herself died, Yang would always remember the feeling of sinking the blade home through Adam, the warmth of his blood on her hands, and his look of stunned surprise as he died. His was the only life she had ever taken deliberately, and she felt no remorse over it. She sometimes wondered if that made her as bad as he was. “I guess…if you want to,” she said reluctantly.

Blake’s hand found Yang’s under the covers. “I do.” 

_Four Years Before_

_The Belladonna Lodge_

“I still can’t believe you sneaked in here!” Blake exclaimed. “Gods, if Dad catches you, he’ll break you in half, literally. You’re lucky they’re out, but they come back…”

Adam Taurus locked the door to her room, then hurriedly checked the window. He’d made his way through the woods, shimmied up a tree, and climbed in through her open window. Once he was satisfied he hadn’t been followed—mainly by a certain chameleon Faunus, who would probably electrocute him—he turned back to Blake, and smiled. He wore his regular outfit of black coat, pants, and red shirt. “I had to see you.”

Blake, for her part, was dressed in her yukata, and was suddenly aware that she was naked beneath it, aside from her panties. She sniched it tighter around her and sat on her bed. “Is it something with the White Fang?” Blake had gone on a few short missions with Adam, and liked what they had done. They had sabotaged a Dust shipment, released a few Faunus prisoners, and generally raised hell. No one had died on either side, and Blake liked the adrenaline rush, and the feeling of doing the right thing. 

“No, nothing to do with the White Fang.” Adam took Wilt out of his belt and set it aside. “Blake…” For the first time since she had met him, he looked unsure. “I…want…” His fists balled up, and turned away. “I want to say something, but I don’t know how!”

Blake smiled, looking down. She knew what Adam wanted to say, and what he wanted. He’d known her parents were gone. They’d stolen a few kisses here and there since before she’d even joined the White Fang, and after their last mission, a heavy making out session had nearly turned into something more. Adam had gotten one of her breasts out before he’d suddenly broken off, uncharacteristically afraid. Blake knew he wanted her—and she wanted him. After she’d returned home, she’d pleasured herself into near insensibility. “It’s okay, Adam,” she said quietly.

“It’s not.” She heard the rustling of paper, and he turned back to her. To Blake’s surprise, he held a piece of paper, and Adam cleared his throat. “Blake…everything you do is magic. Everything you do just turns me on. Even though my life before was tragic. Now my love for you goes on.” He looked up at her, his eyes hidden by his mask. Then he crumpled the paper and threw it in the trash. “Never mind. It’s stupid. It’s a stupid poem. I’m stupid for even writing it.”

Blake got up from the bed and walked to him. “I liked it, Adam.”

“You…you did?”

“Mm-hmm.” She reached up, and drew him down to her lips. Then her hands came up and took hold of his mask. 

“Please don’t,” he told her. 

Blake just smiled and removed the mask. One pale blue eye stared back at her. The other was gray and ruined, covered by a horrific burn scar, the letters SDC forever stamped there. The intact eye looked frightened, afraid. The other one would always be dead, unable to show any emotions but pain and hate. Blake stood on tiptoes and kissed the scar. “I want to see you,” she whispered. 

“I’m ugly.”

“You’re beautiful.” She kissed his cheek, then his lips again. They stared at each other for a moment, then Blake slipped out of his grasp. She walked over to the lamp and switched it off. The moonlight lit up the room, and she knew his remaining eye had excellent night vision. Then she turned towards him, knew that there was no going back, and slipped the yukata off, letting it drift down her body. Blake put her hands at her side, letting his eye roam her body, the perfect breasts and the erect nipples. She held out her arms. “Adam,” she said, oddly calm despite her heart beginning to beat faster, “I want you. I've always wanted you.”

“Uhm,” he replied, then swallowed to get some saliva going. “Uh...you’re sure?”

Blake climbed onto her bed and leaned against the pillows. “Yes,” she replied simply.

“O-Okay.” He quickly slipped off his shoes, then his jacket. Blake decided to tease him a little. She reached down and peeled off her panties, then threw them at him. She hadn’t meant to hit him in the face, but that was where they landed, hanging off one of his horns. Adam blinked, pulled off the panties, then his mouth fell open at the sight of a very nude Blake Belladonna. He made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a choke, and quickly pulled his pants off. His feet got tangled up as he tried to get to the bed, and Adam tripped and fell.

Blake’s hands went to her mouth. She didn’t want to laugh, but she couldn’t help but grin. She leaned over the bed. “Adam, are you okay?”

Adam managed to pry off his pants and leapt to his feet. “Of course!” He took off his shirt, but that got tangled in his horns. He began to curse, muffled by the shirt, and this time Blake _did_ laugh. Finally he got the shirt off and flung it across the room. Blake smothered her laugh. “I’m sorry,” she apologized.

He looked upset for a moment, then he grinned too. “I’m having a hell of a time here.”

“You are.” She crawled across the bed and inspected his underwear, which had a rather obvious tent in them. Blake had never seen a penis in her life, outside of books, and she giggled again. Adam’s grin faded. “Uh…you’re not laughing at…it, are you?”

“No, no,” Blake explained. “Ilia once had me convinced that Faunus boys had barbs on their penis, like a cat.”

“Well, I’m technically a goat, so I guess you’re safe.”

“Let me make sure.” Blake took a breath, then reached out and pulled down his underwear, which she noticed in passing was red as well. She wondered for a moment if Adam owned any article of clothing besides his mask that wasn’t black or red, but then that thought was interrupted by the member bobbing in front of her. “Oh,” was all she could say.

“Uh…it’s not too small, is it?” he asked. 

Blake had no idea, but she knew he needed some assurance. “It looks fine to me.” She ran her fingers over it, and it leaped upwards. She marveled at that—she’d made him do that! “No barbs. That’s good.” She touched it again, and it seemed to get even harder.

“Blake,” Adam pleaded, “please don’t do that again. I’m not going to last.”

“Okay.” She scooted back on the bed, and let him get up next to her. Her heart was really going now. They were going to do this. After tonight, neither would be virgins. It was going to happen. _I don’t care,_ Blake thought. _I want him. I love him._

“Whoops. Hold on.” Adam jumped off the bed, rummaged in his pants, and came up with a foil-wrapped package. “Good thinking,” Blake told him. He got the wrapper off, and Blake helped him roll it on. “Well…ready?” he asked.

“I think so.” Blake propped herself up on her pillows. Her ears swiveled as she listened for any noise, then, once more taking a deep breath, opened up her thighs. Adam’s good eye widened as he saw what awaited him down there. He quickly rolled to his knees, straddled her, and then pushed forward. “You sure?” he asked. “I mean, if you don’t want to, it’s all right…”

She touched his face. “Adam, I’m sure.” She’d never been more sure of anything in her life.

“Okay…here I go…” Blake bit her lip as she felt the head of Adam’s rubber-sheathed member open up her nether lips, then push deeper. It didn’t hurt, but it did feel strange. Then he hit something, and it _did_ hurt. Blake steeled herself; her mother had warned her when she was younger that it could hurt, at first. 

“Agggh,” Adam groaned, and then Blake felt something else. He was pulsing in her. Her eyes widened and she looked down. He barely kept himself upright on his hands, and Adam hung his head. “Oh…oh gods…Blake…I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Blake.”

“You…” Blake pushed herself up a little, and Adam slid out. There was a little blood on the tip of the condom, but the tip was extended and full of white liquid. Already he had begun to deflate. Blake leaned back and sighed. 

Adam rolled over and sat on the side of the bed, dejected. He pulled off the condom and tossed it in the garbage can by her nightstand. “Blake, I’m so sorry,” he repeated. “Dammit, I’m sorry.”

Blake sat up and put her arms around him. “Adam, it’s okay.”

“It’s not!” he growled. “I wanted this to be right. And it’s wrong. It’s all wrong!” His fist slammed down on her bed.

“We can try again, later on,” she consoled him.

“I didn’t bring another condom,” Adam said. He buried his head in his hands. “Nothing ever goes right.”

“Adam…it was our first time.” She kissed his red hair. “There will be other times.”

“I screwed up.” He laughed humorlessly. “I screwed up screwing.”

Blake’s hands dropped down to run over his chest. “You know, you _do_ have other options.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“You have a tongue, don’t you?”

Adam turned to look at her. “You mean?”

Blake nibbled at an ear, then laid back on her bed again. “That’s _exactly_ what I mean.”

“I’ve never done that before.”

“Neither have I. I’m not flexible enough.”

Adam grinned. “Now _that’s_ an interesting visual.”

Blake ran her hands over her thighs. “You going to talk about it, or do something?”

Adam turned around and pushed her knees apart. “I’ll give it a try. For the honor of the White Fang.”

Blake rolled her eyes. “Don’t bring politics into this, Adam.” She opened herself up a little more. “Now…I know you’ve never seen one of these before…”

“Can’t say as I have.”

“Okay, now if you want to do this right, you—“ Blake was cut off as Adam leaned forward and kissed the nub at the apex of her folds. Her breath caught. “W-Well…yeah…that’s right where you…I thought…I…”

Adam looked up at her, and gently blew on her curls. “Now, Blake, you know I’m a very fast learner.” He returned to licking her. Blake’s hands bunched up the covers. Her breathing deepened and quickened. “A-Adam…” she gasped out. His tongue was finding every part of her, every fold, every protrusion, even inside of her. Blake had never known anything like it. Adam stopped his oral ministrations to look up at her, using his fingers. “Blake,” he said, “look at me.”

She opened her eyes, which had been tightly closed. “I-I-I…”

“Look at me,” he ordered. She whimpered. Adam smiled. He couldn’t wait to see her expression when she came. The breasts were heaving, her whole body was shaking, his fingers were slick with her moisture, it would be any moment now—“Just like that, Blake, my love, just like—“

Her eyes crossed. The sight caused Adam to burst into laughter. As Blake twisted and mewled her way into ecstasy, he was face down into her navel, giggling like a schoolgirl. As she came down from her orgasm, he was still laughing. “It’s not funny,” she panted. She knew what he was laughing at.

“Yes, it is,” he said, his voice muffled.

Blake grabbed his hair and jerked him upright. Then she started laughing too. She couldn't stay mad at that face. “Okay, it’s a _little_ bit funny.”

Then they heard the front door slam shut. Both froze. “Oh shit,” they said at the same time. Both of them leapt off the bed. Blake grabbed clothes and flung them at him. Both heard footfalls coming up the stairs—softer footfalls, meaning it was Kali Belladonna, not Ghira, and which meant that Adam would merely be shot to death rather than snapped in two. “No time!” she whispered. “Go!”

Adam had managed to get his shirt and socks on, but that was it. He quickly slipped on his shoes, put on his mask, tied his jacket and pants around his middle, grabbed Wilt, and jumped out the window. Blake snorted in laughter, watching his pale backside jump from branch to branch. Then she tore across the room, snatching up her yukata and tossing it into the hamper. She unlocked the door and dived under the covers, switching on her lamp and grabbing a textbook off the nightstand, just as the door admitted Kali. “Hello,” she greeted her daughter.

Blake had pulled up the covers to hide her nudity. “Hey, Mom. I was just getting ready to go to bed.”

“Sorry we’re so late. The meeting ran longer than we thought.” 

“No problem.” Blake set the textbook aside. Truth to tell, she was rather tired, all of a sudden.

Kali bent down and kissed her daughter’s forehead, then switched off the light. “Well, good night, then.” 

“Good night, Mom. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Kali closed the door behind her. 

_Present Day, Atlas Academy_

“Did she know?” Yang asked Blake.

“Oh, yes,” Blake answered. “She told me later. She noticed I wasn’t wearing my yukata, and saw the condom in the trashcan when she turned off the light. She also said my neck was flushed.”

“Yep, classic sex flush,” Yang nodded. At Blake’s look, she shrugged. “What? I had sex ed too.”

“So that was my first time,” Blake remarked, with a sigh. “Funny, awkward, kind of dumb…but wonderful at the same time.” She sat up, drawing her knees up to her chest. “He wasn’t always a monster, Blake. He…he was good to me, at first. He loved me. But then…he just…” She put her head against her knees. She was not going to cry. Blake had cried over Adam many times, and she was not going to do it again.

Yang sat up as well, and put an arm around her. Blake leaned into her friend. “I love you,” Yang said. “And I won’t become a monster. I swear to all the gods I’ll never be like that, Blake. I’ll never treat you like you’re just a possession. You’ll always be my friend.”

“I know, Yang. I know. And I love you, too.” Blake smiled. “Thanks for that.”

“No sweat. Now then..." Yang gently pushed Blake away and bent over. "Erggh...damn boobs are in the way..." She drew up her knees. "C'mon, Yang...you can do it...will strong...breath...minty fresh..."

Blake stared at Yang, wondering if she'd lost her mind. " _What_ are you doing?"

"Seeing..." Yang grunted with exertion. "Seeing if I'm flexible enough."

Blake exploded into laughter, falling back onto her side of the bunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to end it on a high note. Maybe Blake has exorcised the last of her demons. And no, Yang is not flexible enough. 
> 
> Okay, next time...something slapstick. Need less serious stuff.


	54. Somebody's Watching Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because Ruby and Oscar are heading out on a date, Ruby drops off the Relic of Knowledge with Blake and Yang to keep an eye on it. That makes Yang wonder: just how much does Jinn actually see?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally had planned to do "Emerald's Fun Dungeon" chapter this time around (yep, time for Emerald to get a little back on Salem), but this idea hit me today, and I decided to write this one first. I've never really written Jinn before, so it was fun to do.
> 
> Though it's really hard to write Blake and Yang not actually asking questions all the time...

“Hey, I’m heading out!” Ruby Rose announced as she opened the bathroom door. Yang Xiao Long and Blake Belladonna turned at the sound of her voice, and Yang let out a low whistle. Ruby was dressed very nicely, in a red dress that ended at her knees and left her shoulders bare, though she had a red-trimmed black coat over one arm; Atlas’ cold weather was not conducive to leaving a lot of exposed skin, Aura or no Aura. 

“Somebody’s looking nice,” Blake observed. “What’s the occasion?”

“Got a date! Oscar’s taking me out for dinner!” Ruby replied happily, waved, and left their dorm room. 

Blake leaned back in the computer chair, where she had been finishing up some reports. “Well, good for him.” She glanced back at Yang, who was lying on her bunk. The older sister still was struggling to admit that the younger was a grown woman and had her own lover. Still, Yang had gotten better at it, and Blake could tell Yang was actually proud of Ruby, and starting to see her as the adult she had become.

“Where did Weiss get to?” Yang asked. 

“I think she’s having dinner with Winter tonight—“ The door burst open, cutting Blake off, as Ruby returned. She held up the Relic of Knowledge. “Hey, guys,” Ruby addressed them, “since Oscar and me are going to be out tonight, you think you can keep an eye on this for me?”

“Sure,” Blake replied. 

“Thanks much!” Ruby set the ornate Relic on the desk next to the computer, ran over, kissed Yang on the cheek, and quickly left again. Yang rubbed her cheek and smiled wistfully. “Guess she’s not my little sister anymore.”

“She’ll always be your little sister,” Blake smiled. There were times she’d wished that her parents would’ve had more children. She was the only one of Team RWBY that was an only child. At least none of them were orphans, like Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie.

Blake finished her report, and found her attention being drawn to the Relic. It looked like an old-time gas lamp, with filligree and ornate sculpting, all of it gold, slightly tarnished with age. It could magically resize itself; at the moment, it was about the size of a table lamp. It glowed with a faint blue hue. “Do you suppose Jinn can see us?” Blake asked.

“I don’t know. I guess,” Yang answered. “Supposedly she can see everything in the past.” There was only one way to find out: to summon the ghostlike Jinn by speaking her name directly to the Relic. Jinn would then appear, and answer any question that dealt with the past. Unfortunately, she could only answer three questions every century, and Team RWBY had already used two of them. Since Blake’s question was not directly addressed to Jinn, hers hadn’t counted. 

“Wonderful,” Blake groused. “I hope all of our antics haven’t been recorded for posterity in there. I’d hate for one of my descendants—if I have any—to ask Jinn a hundred years from now what Team RWBY did in their spare time.”

“Meh,” Yang shrugged. “We’ll be too busy being dead to care, so doesn’t matter to me.” Then a smile slowly widened, creeping across Yang’s face.

“Oh, no,” Blake said, seeing that sly, plotting expression. “What horrible thing are you planning, Yang?”

“Oh, just something to record for posterity.” Yang got up and walked over to the lamp. For a horrible moment, Blake thought Yang was going to ask Jinn a question, which would be the worst idea she could ever have. Instead, Yang bent down to the lamp. “I’m going to give you something to see, Jinn, and possible Xiao Long-Rose descendants,” she said huskily. She went and turned down the lights. Then she stepped back, pulled out her Scroll, and selected some music. It was a slow romance song, backed by a saxophone, something that belonged in a strip club. To Blake’s surprise, that was exactly what Yang intended. 

Yang wasn’t wearing her battle uniform, but the outfit provided by Atlas Academy: a T-shirt, black shorts, gray leggings, and white socks. Swaying to the music, Yang began to slowly strip off her clothes, starting with the T-shirt. Blake decided _to hell with it_ , scooted the chair back, and watched the show. Yang grinned at her, then faced the Relic again. Once the T-shirt was off, she swung it around her head like a lasso, before tossing it to Blake. She then slowly pulled down the shorts, easing them off her rear and shaking the latter at the lamp, before stepping out of them and kicking them aside. Twirling around, Yang sank to the carpet, raised one leg, and pulled off the stocking with agonizing slowness, then repeated the action with the other leg. She jumped back to her feet, and ruined the sexy atmosphere a bit by hopping around on one foot to get her socks off, though the bouncing of her bosom meant it wasn’t _entirely_ ruined. Now down to her underwear, Yang tossed her hair back, bent over, and licked her lips suggestively at the Relic.

Blake, despite herself, found that she was getting into this. A mostly naked Yang was always something of a turn-on, especially when she was gyrating and purposely being sexy. Blake would not be able to explain why she was so attracted to Yang Xiao Long, besides the brawler’s looks, but she was, and she found her mouth going dry watching Yang strip for the Relic. Caught up in the moment, Blake found her wallet, pulled out some lien, and threw them at Yang. “Making it _rain!”_ Yang exclaimed, grabbed the lien, stuffed some of them in the waistband of her panties, and rubbed the others over her body. Then she turned, faced Blake, reached forward, and unsnapped the catch on her bra. Yang’s rather magnificent breasts were freed, and she spun the bra around her head like she had the T-shirt. She raised her breasts for Blake’s benefit, then turned back to the Relic and shook them. “Ready for the main event?” she whispered. “It’s full monty, baby!” Yang reached down and slid off her panties, stepping out of them. She drew her hands up her thighs, through the trimmed blonde hairs below. She winked at Blake. “Like what you see?”

Blake’s ears were standing straight up, and she nodded. “I certainly do,” she croaked.

Yang spun in place, and made a come-hither gesture. Blake, as if compelled by a spell, rose from the chair and walked over. Yang gently pinned her against the bunk beds, and seemingly began to devour her, starting with her lips. Blake let out a small moan, and turned to jelly in her lover’s hands, which quickly pulled off Blake’s T-shirt and bra. Neither were paying much attention to the lamp now, their eyes only for each other, kissing and licking with animal intensity, even moreso because the encounter hadn’t been planned. Yang had been joking around, but that had changed rapidly. 

Blake grabbed the center post of the bunks with her arms over her head, as Yang trailed kisses down her neck, then her chest between her breasts, the blonde’s hands pulling down Blake’s shorts. “Oh gods, Yang…” Blake gasped. Her eyes opened halfway as Yang gently pulled down her panties, then opened a lot wider than that. “Yang!” she yelled.

Yang kissed Blake’s navel. “Right here, Blakey.”

“No, it’s the Relic!”

Yang kissed further down. “What about it? I was just kidding, Blake; I’m sure Jinn doesn’t watch us. We’re just having wild sex; nothing Remnant-shaking.” She gave a little lick, and Blake’s thighs spasmed together. She didn’t want her lover thinking about anything at the moment. 

Though Blake nearly fell with the bolts of desire emanating from her groin, she shook her head. “Yang, I’m not kidding. There’s something going on with the Relic. I saw something move inside of it.”

“It’s your imagination,” Yang told her, pulling the panties down over the stockings, to Blake’s knees.

Blake bent down and dropped her voice. “Yang, I’m _not_ kidding!” she repeated in a hiss. “The Relic is glowing more, and there’s something moving!”

Yang stopped, torn between simply reducing Blake to a quivering mass, and finding out if Jinn really _was_ watching them. “Got an idea,” she said softly. “Follow my lead.” Blake gave a quick nod. Yang kissed her, put her hands underneath Blake’s arms, and gently drew her back to her feet. She then turned both of them sideways to the lamp. “Grab my butt and grind on me,” she whispered through the kiss. She felt Blake’s hands grab her rear, and seized a double handful of the Bellabooty. Both then began grinding against each other. Yang, with one eye half-open, watched the lamp. Sure enough, it flickered, and something seemed to move within. She suddenly broke off the kiss, whirled on the Relic, and stabbed a finger towards it. “Ha! Caught you, Jinn!”

She hadn’t meant that to be a summons, but it was.

Time noticeably slowed and stopped. Outside the window, the normal air traffic and combat air patrols stopped. Ren and Nora, having dinner (bacon and pancakes) two doors down, halted mid-bite. Jaune stopped flexing in the mirror. Weiss and Winter slowed to a stop in the middle of a video game, _Super Murder Homicidal Genocide XII_. Ruby and Oscar paused in mid-smooch.

Blue smoke poured from the lamp and twisted into a minature tornado. It coalesced and quickly formed a humanoid, then a very feminine shape. Jinn appeared in the dorm, filling it from floor to ceiling. Her appearance always took Blake and Yang aback. Jinn was nude save for a golden chain around her waist, a golden choker, earrings and bracelets. There were no definable nipples or vagina, but there was no question Jinn was unclothed. Pointed ears rose through the dark blue hair that framed a beautiful, but undeniably otherworldly face. Glowing blue eyes gazed back at them. “You have summoned me,” she said in a slightly deep, slightly amused voice. 

“Like hell,” Yang snarled, stalking forward and staring up at the apparition. 

“Ask your final question.” Jinn seemed not to notice Yang’s mood.

“Ohhh no,” Yang snapped, hands on hips. “You’re not getting out of this that easily, Jinn. I’m not asking any questions, because I already know the answers. You’re spying on us. You’ve _been_ spying on us.”

“No, I haven’t,” Jinn replied. “Your request for knowledge has been fulfilled.” She began twisting back on herself, pulling herself back into the lamp. 

“You’re not going anywhere!” Yang grabbed at her chain, but it was etheral, so her hands closed on nothing. Instead, she grabbed the Relic as Jinn disappeared into it, turned it upside down, and began shaking it like she was making a martini. Blue smoke roiled around her hands. She held it up to her face, still upside down. “Listen to me, you perv,” Yang growled. “If you know all that’s in the past, then you know how I open pickle jars. And I swear to the Good Brother that I will do the same to _you._ ” She looked up at Blake. “Grab Ember Celica.”

Blake had used the opportunity to pull her underwear back up; it was a little embarrassing to stand there with them around her knees. Yang and Jinn might be completely nude, but Blake still had _some_ modesty. “Yang…”

“Do it, Blake! I’m not letting a loophole get between me and Pervy McPerverson here!”

Blake had to admit she was curious too. She nodded and went to grab Ember Celica off the weapons rack.

“Wait!” Jinn drifted out of the lamp and reformed. “Fine!” She folded her arms over her breasts. “I’ll let you have a freebie, Yang Xiao Long.”

“You’re damn right you will,” Yang replied. “That’s got to be a serious breach of ethics.”

Jinn raised an eyebrow. “Ethics? You were stripping for me a minute ago.”

“Yeah, because I didn’t actually think you were watching!” Yang stabbed a metal finger through Jinn’s chest. “So you admit it—you _were_ watching us have sex.”

Jinn tossed her blue hair haughtily. “I must know everything, Yang Xiao Long. For posterity, for the preservation of history.” She grinned sardonically. “After all, one day your descendants may ask, ‘What was my ancestor like’?”

“And you’ll show them images of us having sex.” Blake was careful to make it a statement, not a question.

“Well, it _is_ part of history.”

“And you’re not saying that as an excuse for your voyeuristic behavior.” 

Jinn looked at Blake. “That sounds very much like a question, Blake Belladonna.”

“Yeah, and you said we had a freebie!” Yang reminded her. 

“A freebie summons, like what Ruby Rose did—“

“Bullshit! You didn’t say that! A freebie question!” Yang insisted.

Jinn gave her a murderous look, then sighed. “All right, all right. I suppose it’s not really a violation of the rules.”

“And you have to tell the truth,” Blake reminded her.

Jinn stomped her feet, though since she was essentially a ghost, the effect wasn’t all that impressive. “I said, _fine!”_ She defiantly sat on the carpet, legs crossed, arms still folded. “Yes. I watch, because…well…I’m bored.”

“You’re bored?” Yang asked.

The spirit of the lamp gave her a pitying look. “Yang Xiao Long, I am many centuries old. And I only get out of the lamp three times every one of those centuries. The rest of the time, there’s nothing to do but review everything I already know, and wait for someone to summon me. It’s boring as hell. So you’ll excuse me if I watch your team go on adventures, and yes, have your little sexual escapades.” Jinn smiled. “Though seeing you two was refreshingly different. The last few weeks, it’s been Ruby Rose and Oscar Pine.” She shrugged. “They’re rather vanilla, those two. Other than their hilariously bad attempts at roleplay, it’s pretty much just the same old in-out,” she sighed. 

Blake knelt in front of her, covering her breasts with an arm, then deciding there was no point in that. “I’d like to ask a question, one related to your well-being.”

Jinn considered that. “Since it’s for my well-being, then yes, you may.”

“There’s nothing else for you to do in there but watch?”

Yang’s eyes widened. “Blake, please tell me you’re not about to suggest a threesome with Jinn.”

Jinn burst into laughter. “I’m afraid that won’t work, Yang,” she snickered. Her hands drifted through both of them. “I am not corporeal. The idea intrigues me, but it is impossible.”

Blake shook her head at Yang. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Yang. What I was proposing was doing something nice for Jinn.” She pointed to the computer. “We could leave something running on the computer for you during the day. It would relieve some of the boredom.” Blake stopped herself. “No, wait…you see all. I guess that’s a stupid idea.”

“I do,” Jinn told her, then smiled. “But it is a rather kind gesture for you to make. And while I can see the past, I cannot see the future.” Her smile widened. “I must admit a small love for _As Remnant Turns_ and _Mantle Police._ Naturally, I can see those shows, but…I rather like the idea of seeing them live, as it were.” Jinn reached out and caressed Blake’s face, not that the latter could actually feel her fingers. “I suspect this is a bargain.”

“What Yang and I do, and what Ruby and Oscar do, is not important to Remnant. Is there any way you can…shut off from recording that?”

Jinn sadly shook her head. “I’m afraid not. But I can…refrain from watching live, as it were.”

“Still kinda pervy,” Yang observed.

The spirit shrugged. “So? It’s what I do, Yang Xiao Long. I don’t have much choice in the matter, so I might as well derive some pleasure.” She twirled her fingers. “If it makes you feel better, any time I am present, I prevent Salem from scrying on you.”

Blake looked nauseated. “Ew.”

“She’s immortal, too…as you know.”

“So when you’re immortal, you turn into a creeper. Good to know.” Yang nodded. “Well, Jinn, I guess that’s the best we’re going to get from you on this, so I’d appreciate it if you hopped back into your lamp, and refrained from watching me go down on Blake.” 

Jinn bowed respectfully. “It shall be as you say.” She then turned to smoke, and drifted back into the lamp. Time outside the dorm room resumed.

An hour later, Blake lay asleep in her bunk, exhausted from Yang’s oral talents. Yang brushed the Faunus’ hair lovingly, just enough to enter her dreams but not enough to wake her. She wondered why she found Blake so attractive as well. _I don’t know if I like all girls like I do boys,_ Yang thought, _but I know I love you, Blakey._

Then she had an idea. Quietly, she slipped out of the bunk, grabbed the Relic, and took it in the bathroom, shutting the door. “Hey, Jinn,” she whispered. “I think you owe me another freebie for spying on me.”

Blue smoke curled up again, but this time a miniature Jinn appeared at the top of the Relic. “You’re breaking the rules.”

“So turn me in to the Good Brother on an ethical complaint,” Yang told her. “I’m a rule breaker. That’s what I do. You know that.”

“Only too well,” Jinn sighed. “But I suppose you have a point. What is your question?”

“It’s not really breaking the rules, because…well…it’s just something for Blake in there.” Yang bit her lip. “I love her, Jinn. You know that too.”

Jinn gave her a smile. “Yes, I do. And I must admit it is a beautiful thing to see.”

“Then you won’t mind if I ask this question.” Yang glanced at the door, remembered how good Blake’s hearing was, and couldn’t be assured if the light-sleeping Faunus had awakened after all. She leaned close and whispered in Jinn’s ghostly ear. Jinn’s smile widened once more. “Yang,” she said, “I do not regard _that_ question to be a violation of the rules at all.” She leaned in and whispered something back.

“You’re kidding,” Yang said, unbelievingly.

“I am not. As you said before, I cannot lie.”

Yang bent forward and kissed Jinn on the head, though naturally it wasn’t a real kiss. Jinn let out a girlish giggle, winked, and disappeared back into the lamp.

Yang left the bathroom, put the Relic back on the table, and returned to Blake. The Faunus was still asleep, and the brawler softly pulled the covers off of her. As expected, Blake murmured in her sleep and turned over, curling up like a kitten. Yang, with a smirk back at the Relic, reached forward and began rubbing her fingers in the back of Blake’s knees, up and down the shapely thighs, up to the perfectly formed rear and down again.

Blake’s ears flicked and her eyes flew open. “Yang, what are you…ooohhh…” She shuddered in delight. “How did you….know...that’s…ahh…”

“Woman’s intuition,” Yang grinned, and kissed Blake as her rubbing increased in intensity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After writing this chapter, I think I sort of ended up making Jinn like the Demonspawn Belt in Adam Warren's "Empowered." Well, they're not all that different, I suppose...


	55. Hello Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oscar and Ruby are reunited after Oscar's near death at the hands of Ironwood, and Team RWBY's escape from Atlas. It's cold in Mantle, but that's nothing that a little skin-to-skin contact won't take care of. 
> 
> But someone's watching them. Several someones, actually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are, back again. I gave some thought to concluding "Love Hurts," but I really felt the need to write something funny--"On RWBY Wings" is getting pretty serious, and we all could use a laugh with how insane the world is right now. So back to the lemony-flavored goodness of this fic.
> 
> I've got some ideas for new chapters, and I think I'm going to write one for each main ship (Rosegarden, Bumblebee, White Knight, Renora, etc.). Naturally, I'll still take requests--if you made one before last month, remind me, and I'll take some new ones, too. My update for this fic should be one every four days or so, though as we head towards the end of the semester (for me), the holidays (for everyone), and who knows what will take place with the Election That Never Ends (for us Americans), no guarantees we'll keep that schedule. But I'll do my best.
> 
> Some mild Season 8 spoilers ahead, though nothing really huge. Note that I have used the pronoun "they" for May Marigold, since they're transgender; no insult is intended. (A friend of mine who is trans uses that pronoun, so I'm going off of that.)

Oscar Pine ducked into the bar that was serving as Team RWBY’s temporary hideout in Mantle, barely avoiding an Atlesian military drone—though Joanna Greenleaf of the Happy Huntresses took care of that by blowing it away. Once inside, he caught his breath and tried not to shiver. The bar was warmer than the outside, but not by much. Yang began building up a fire in the old fireplace, but there was no guarantee that would work, and they’d have to be careful about giving away their position. Grimm were roaming the city, but for once they were only secondary to another threat: they were all wanted fugitives from Atlas itself, as a result of General Ironwood’s arrest order. In Oscar’s case, it might as well be a kill order: he’d been shot by the general himself and fell down Atlas’ central ventilation shaft, a drop of about two miles. He’d been lucky: his Aura had taken the shot, and thanks to the return of Ozpin, he’d unlocked his Semblance: a rather nifty shield that kept him from being killed from the very sudden stop underneath Atlas. He had landed in the Crater, and rescued by Team RWBY in their stolen Bullhead.

Now they had to take stock. Fiona Thyme, the sheep Faunus of the Happy Huntresses, walked up to the gathered Team RWBY and JNR. “Look,” she said, “help yourselves to some food and drink—it’s cold, but it’s better than nothing. Maybe get some rest. We’re not going anywhere for awhile.”

“How safe are we here?” asked Maria Calavera. The old Huntress and Pietro Polendina—along with the newly minted Winter Maiden, Penny Polendina—had made the trip with them. 

Fiona sniffed. “We’re hunted by the Atlesian military, Salem has parked her giant Grimm whale right above us, and there’s Grimm roaming the city.” She shrugged. “About as safe as we’re going to get.”

“I’ll get this fire going,” Yang said. The normally boisterous blonde had been rather downcast, but Oscar couldn’t blame her. Things had gone very bad very quickly, and all of them were lucky to be free and alive. 

His eyes met Ruby’s, and she motioned towards one of the back rooms. He followed her through the bar’s back door; barely anyone noticed, everyone lost in their own thoughts. In the back, the storeroom had been converted to a few small rooms, not much bigger than a closet, but offering a little privacy; Oscar supposed the bar had been a hideout for the Happy Huntresses for awhile. It was also even colder than the main room. He closed the rickety-looking door behind him and turned to Ruby. “What did you want to—“

She grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and planted a kiss on him that he felt to his toes. “Oh gods,” she breathed through the kiss, “I thought you were dead.”

“It’s…it’s a long story,” he said.

“Tell it to me later.” She began unbuttoning his coat and trying to unlace her own corset at the same time. “We need to warm up.” Ruby was speaking between attempting to devour him, starting with his lips. “And the best way to do that is body-to-body contact.”

_That is actually true,_ Ozpin’s voice spoke in Oscar’s mind. _Well…we need to talk more, Oscar, but I think that can wait._ His voice drifted off, as it usually did when Oscar and Ruby began preparing for making love. Or in this case, mad monkey sex.

“Ruby, I don’t know if this is the best time…” Oscar’s jacket landed on the floor, while Ruby’s cape landed atop that. 

She looked at him, her silver eyes filled with tears. “We may be dead tomorrow, Oscar!”

“But…”

“Please,” Ruby pleaded.

“Okay.” Oscar never could turn down those beautiful eyes. They got the corset off, and he pulled off his gloves to get under her shirt. 

"Your hands are cold," Ruby commented, but they warmed fast enough.

“Yo,” Joanna greeted May Marigold. The third member of the Happy Huntresses sat in a room above the bar. Outside, concealed in the walls, were cameras that faced the street. There were also cameras inside, so the team could keep an eye on anyone suspicious inside the bar. Joanna set her weapon down and collapsed into a chair. “Well, I guess some help is better than none. Just wish I could trust those kids.”

“They’re not kids,” May said. “They’ve got more experience than us.”

Joanna was too tired to argue. “How’s the street look?”

“Quiet. It’s getting dark. Everyone’s inside, just trying to get warm. Looks like the Grimm are sticking to the main areas. Who’s on watch?”

The door opened, admitting Fiona. “That Jaune guy said he’d take watch. Between him and the cameras we should be okay.”

“I guess that’s fine.” With Robyn Hill probably in an Atlas jail cell, Fiona was the de facto leader. “Gonna get damn cold tonight,” Joanna said.

“We should be okay with the fire going…or, you know, we could huddle together for warmth.” Fiona grinned at her, then pointed at one of the camera screens. “You know, like those two.”

May, who had been distracted by the conversation, gave a start when they saw the screen Fiona was pointing at. “Whoa! What have we here? Joanna, check this out!”

“What—oh.” Joanna blinked. “That’s that Ruby girl…and the Oscar guy they picked up from the Crater. They’re…well, now. They're just slightly naked."

“They’re going to stay warm tonight, that’s for sure!” May exclaimed, then zoomed in. 

“Er, May, I don’t think we should be watching this,” Fiona said, then she suddenly leaned closer. “Holy crap, he’s going down on her!”

“He’s going to have a hell of a time with her skirt in the way—oh, there it goes. _And_ her panties.” May leaned back in the chair, their cheeks turning red. “Damn, boy! Go to it!”

“I wish I had a boyfriend that would go down on me,” Joanna sighed.

“Are you kidding?” May replied. “I’d settle for _anyone_ to go down on me like that!” 

“You’re…you’re not recording this, are you?” Fiona asked.

“What? No! I’m not a pervert or anything.” May leaned closer. “Gad, look at her toes curl. He’s going to get her off in no time.”

“That fast?” Joanna sighed again. “Dust, it always takes me like 20 minutes…”

“That’s because you don’t do it right—and there we go. Good on ya, boy!” May laughed. They saw Ruby throw her head back, stuffing her own cape in her mouth to keep from screaming, her legs shaking. Her trembling subsided, and she rose up to kiss Oscar. “Ew! Wash your mouth out first!”

“There was this one time, at Atlas Academy—“ Fiona began.

“Hush!” Joanna commanded. “Are they…yep, they’re going for the main event.” Her cheeks burned. “Gods above, that Oscar’s got a nice ass.”

“Like a three-lien mule,” May agreed. “Get your pants off first, moron— _boots_ off before that.”

“Reminds me of my first time,” Fiona said, looking wistful. “My guy didn’t even get his pants off before he went to town.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joanna said absently. “There you go, dude.” Oscar was between Ruby’s legs, gently pushing into her. She pressed herself into him. “Damn, slow down, kid. He’s going like a politician on holiday.”

“Can’t blame him.” May fanned herself. “Gods, she’s still wearing her stockings…that is hot.”

The Huntresses watched Oscar make love to Ruby with abandon, though the latter didn’t seem to mind. There was no sound, but Ruby was putting her cape back in her mouth. All three Huntresses were nearly nose to nose with the screen. Salem and a horde of Grimm could’ve been in the street, but none of them would’ve noticed. Oscar had to visibly pause and catch his breath. “No, don’t stop!” May commanded. “You’re almost there!”

“My boyfriend used to get a bit worn out—“

“Shut up, Fiona!” Joanna yelled. “There he goes!” Each of them unconsciously began bouncing up and down, blushing and grinning. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Joanna chanted.

“Almost there…” May whispered. “Almost there…”

“She’s getting a little loose!” Fiona exclaimed.

“Almost there…”

“She can’t hold off!” Ruby was starting to shake again, her teeth clenched around her cape, hands bunched in the covers of the small bed. 

“It's away!” Joanna pointed. Oscar had gone rigid, and stayed that way as Ruby twisted and squirmed beneath him, before he finally collapsed on her. The Huntresses threw their arms in the air and cheered. “You go, girl!” May threw Ruby an unseen thumbs-up, Fiona shook her head with a smile, and Joanna did a victory dance.

The door opened. All three Huntresses whirled to see Maria Calavera standing there. “What’s going on?” she demanded.

“Oh!” Joanna put her body between the tiny old woman and the screen. “N-Nothing! Some Grimm just got blown away by some Atlesian gunships in the main square!”

“I thought you hated the Atlesian military,” Maria said suspiciously.

“We do!” Fiona told her. “But…you know…enemy of my enemy, and all that…”

“Hmm.” Maria’s expression was one of utter disbelief, but she closed the door. Instantly, all three Huntresses went back to the screen.

“Aww,” Fiona cooed. “They’re cuddling.”

“They _are_ cute together,” Joanna agreed. 

May stood up. “I…I will be in my bunk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Happy Huntresses are perverts, apparently, but pretty much everyone is in this fic. Ruby and Oscar are lucky it wasn't Salem spying on them...this time.
> 
> And you'll never watch the Star Wars Trench Run the same way again.


	56. Sweet Child of Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang wakes up to find that Ruby is pregnant. Happily so.
> 
> Wait, what?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CJ Lowder has actually been asking for "What if Ruby really WAS pregnant" since I sort of teased Ruby getting pregnant by Oscar a few chapters back. Well, here you go...sort of.
> 
> Not sure what the update schedule for the fic is going to be--I suspect it's going to be "Whenever I feel like it," so you might get a new chapter every two days, or it might be every five or six. Either way, I will definitely keep updating, as the muse strikes. Glad to see so many people still love reading this, 56 chapters and 237 pages (!) in.

Yang Xiao Long’s eyelids fluttered open as the dim sunlight of Atlas drifted in through the dorm room window. She tried to sit up, her back gave an alarming pop, and Yang quickly gave up, settling back down into her pillow. Then the smell of coffee drifted past her nose. She looked over. Ruby was standing with her back to Yang, brewing some of the magic liquid. “Smells good, Rubes.”

“Oh, hey!” Ruby called out to her sister. “When did you wake up?”

“Just now. Pour me a cup, will you?”

“Sure thing, sis.” There was the sound of liquid splashing into a mug, and Ruby turned around. She was wearing an apron and holding two coffee cups. Yang smiled at her little sister, then abruptly realized her little sister wasn’t so little.

In fact, Ruby was pregnant. Heavily so. 

Yang rubbed her eyes and looked again. A wild theory that Ruby had suddenly gained half her own weight in less than 24 hours was blown away, because Yang dimly remembered Summer Rose being pregnant. Ruby looked very much like her mother. “Ruby!” Yang shouted, pointing at her sister’s swollen belly. “What the hell?”

“What?” Ruby looked confused.

“You’re…you’re pregnant!”

Ruby laughed. “Of course I’m pregnant, Yang. I’ve been preggers for seven months, duh!”

“But…who…who’s the father?”

It was Weiss who answered. “Yang, please wake up before you open your mouth. You know quite well who the father is.”

“Oscar!” Ruby exclaimed happily. She closed her eyes and giggled. “Oh, I can’t wait to see her!”

“Her?” Yang asked.

“My daughter, silly! You were there when we found out, remember? We’re going to name her Jade if she has her daddy’s eyes. Maybe Yang if she has my silver ones!”

“Ugh, don’t.” Yang had not had the easiest of times growing up with a name that rhymed with _wang._ “Sorry, Rubes, I must’ve taken a bump on the head or something, because I don’t remember you being pregnant.”

“That’s odd,” Weiss said, getting slowly to her feet with a groan. “Then maybe you don’t remember _me_ being with child either.”

Yang’s eyes went wide as saucers: Weiss was also sporting a bulging belly. She was wearing her new combat skirt—as was Ruby, underneath the apron—but it had clearly been recut to a maternity one. “W-Weiss?! But…”

Weiss looked at Yang with concern. “Maybe we _do_ need to take you to the infirmary and check you for a concussion. Please, Yang…you know I turned up pregnant about a week or two after Ruby.”

“Jaune?” Yang asked, with the feeling she already knew the answer.

Weiss rolled her eyes. “Of course, Jaune! Who else would it be?” She sighed. “It’s a boy, of course. I did want a girl…but it is a very nice gesture to name the child Pyrrhus.” 

Ruby set down the coffee and went to look at her sister more closely. “Yang, maybe you banged your head on the ceiling or something. Maybe we’d better go to the hospital like Weiss said. Getting a concussion would be bad for the baby.”

“Your baby—babies?” Yang wondered. She didn’t know how her possible concussion would affect Ruby and Weiss. 

Ruby shook her head, her silver eyes filled with worry. “No, Yang. _Your_ baby.”

Yang went pale, looked down, and threw back the covers. She was wearing her usual tank top, but she couldn’t see her shorts—because they were blocked by a stomach as large as Ruby’s or Weiss’. “What…what the fuck…what the absolute…”

“Okay,” Weiss said. “Let’s help her down, Ruby.”

Yang fended off Ruby’s hands with her artificial one, while running her other hand over her belly. It wasn’t a joke. It was her skin, and she felt something moving inside. Something kicked. Yang felt a wave of nausea, reminded of that one movie where the Grimm had burst out of the Huntsman’s chest. “Wait, wait!” she yelled at Ruby. “Who’s the father? I haven’t been with anyone but Blake!”

There was a ruffling of covers next to her, and Blake’s black hair and ears appeared. “I should hope not!” Blake said, but it wasn’t quite Blake’s voice. It was, and it wasn’t, Yang thought. She grabbed the covers over the Faunus and threw them back. Blake was wearing the usual yukata, but she was no longer she; Blake was most definitely a _he._ No rounded breasts confronted Yang, but a set of pecs and abs Sun Wukong would be proud of. Helplessly, Yang’s eyes roamed down to the bottom of the yukata. _Something_ throbbed there, erect and huge. Blake smiled. “Oh, Yang,” she… _he_ said, much to the blonde’s horror, “you know I get morning wood something fierce.”

Yang screamed…

…and slammed her head into the ceiling over her bunk. Her screams turned into horrific curses that would make Raven Branwen blush. Lights snapped on in the other bunks, and Ruby was swinging out of hers to check on her sister faster than Blake was out of hers to check on her lover. “Yang! Yang!” Ruby yelled. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” She chinned herself on the side of the bunk.

Yang, holding an aching skull, blinked at Ruby and Blake. Her eyes still wide, she got out of the bunk and dropped to the floor, watched by her worried friends, now joined by Weiss. She peered at Ruby’s abdomen, then Weiss’. They were as flat as usual. Then, hands shaking, she reached out and yanked open Blake’s yukata. The familiar rounded breasts and pink nipples bounced free. Blake let out an _eep_ , pushed Yang’s hands away, and closed the front of her robe. “Yang, what in the hell?”

Yang sank down on Blake’s bunk, rubbing her eyes. “I just had one doozy of a nightmare.” She checked herself. “Well, I guess it wasn’t a _nightmare…_ ”

Weiss sighed. “I’ll make some coffee.”

“What was it?” Ruby asked. “The Apathy?” She still had nightmares about them sometimes. “Mom?” Both sisters shared bad dreams about Summer.

“Adam?” Blake said in a soft voice. She knew her former lover used to regularly haunt Yang’s dreams, but those had largely gone away after Adam had. 

“No…nothing like that.” Yang felt the headache starting to ebb. “Not scary. It was just…super weird.” Then she smiled, because on second thought, it was kind of funny. “I dreamed I was pregnant.” She looked at Ruby. “And so were you, Rubes.” Then a glance at Weiss. “And so was Weissy.”

Weiss nearly dropped the coffee can on the floor. “I _what?”_

“Whoa, I was preggers?” Ruby said. She snorted. “Who was the daddy? Oscar?”

“Yep.”

Ruby ran a hand across her stomach. “Well, I’m not, Yang. We’re very careful, you know that.” She sat down next to her sister. “Though, you know…someday, after the war’s over…maybe.” She said it halfway as a joke, but the truth was, Ruby wouldn’t mind having children with Oscar Pine, if there was ever peace. 

“Oh gods,” Weiss said, spooning the coffee into the machine. “Let me guess. Jaune knocked me up.” Yang nodded. “Well, I suppose it could be worse.” Also truth to tell, Weiss had caught herself wondering what kind of children she and Jaune would make. Would they have the Schnee white hair, or the Arc blonde? Or some beautiful combination of both? Weiss was under no illusions that she would not make a beautiful child.

“Great,” Blake groaned, sitting at the desk. “I was pregnant too, I bet. Probably with Sun’s kid.” She didn’t even want to think about the possibility of being impregnated by Adam.

“Actually, no.” Yang started to laugh, swept up by the utter absurdity of it. “You weren’t preggers. You were the father...of _my_ baby.”

Blake actually almost fell off the chair. “Excuse me? I’m pretty sure that’s anatomically impossible!”

Weiss snickered. “Did you fail biology, Yang?”

Actually, Yang _had_ failed biology, but that wasn’t important at the moment. “It’s not impossible if Blake is a dude.”

“Wait. I was a _man?”_ Blake began laughing too, slapping the desk in mirth. “Seriously? Well, that explains why you wanted to look at my tits. Or rather, for them."

“Yep!” Yang was hugging herself now. “You were good looking, too. Kind of like Sun with your head on top.”

“I’m not sure if I’m horrified or amused.” Weiss poured them all a cup of coffee, and sat cross-legged on the floor. “An interesting dream, Yang.” She sipped at the coffee, thinking about her and Jaune again. “A very interesting one.”

Later, after all the girls had drank their coffee and had many good laughs over Yang’s dream—though Ruby filed away her “children’s” names for future use, and Weiss thought that naming a potential Schnee-Arc child for Pyrrha was actually quite appropriate—they returned to bed. Even Ruby managed to fall back asleep, despite the stomach-churning amount of sugar and cream she took in her coffee. 

Yang lay in her bunk, unable to get back to sleep. She wasn’t so much thinking about Guy Blake as she was children. She supposed that most, if not all girls thought about it, at least; she was no different. Still, there weren’t any guys she really liked at the moment, and she loved Blake. The two of them couldn’t have children, of course, unless they found a sperm donor, and who would that be? _Sun or Jaune,_ Yang thought with a snicker. Of course, they could always adopt.

Two cat ears appeared on the side of her bunk. “Hey,” Blake whispered. “You still awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Scoot over.” She climbed in next to Yang. The bunk was narrow, but they always managed—either to make love, or to hold each other when the night got too dark or the nightmares returned. “You okay?” she asked Yang quietly.

“Oh yeah. I'm good. Just thinking that I might want kids someday.”

“I don’t think my mother is going to allow me back on Menagerie without at least the _possibility_ of grandchildren,” Blake told her. “I suppose our relationship…complicates that.”

“A little,” Yang agreed.

“Well, before we talk about that,” Blake said, with a grin. “Answer me this question. Was I…you know…” She pointed to the bottom of her yukata, where Yang could see her black panties. “Was I...well endowed?"

“Hung like a damn horse,” Yang tittered, and kissed the Faunus on the nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh. CJ's prompt was Ruby getting "with child," as it were, but how about the entire team, save Blake? Blake being the "father" of Yang's child was something that just happened while I was writing, and it was too good to pass up. 
> 
> I don't know if I've seen genderbent art of Team RWBY, but I have with Team JNPR...and I have to admit Girl Ren is kinda cute.


	57. Beat It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salem's arrived at Atlas, ready to grab two Relics. Ironwood and Team RWBY are fighting, her plans are moving forward, and soon even Cinder will return to her faction.
> 
> So why is she bored? And what's Emerald got in mind to cure the boredom?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, it's time for Emerald's Fun Dungeon, suggested so many weeks ago that I honestly (and apologetically) forgot who suggested it. This was becoming this fic's version of Phil Fogilo's "Sex and D&D" (which became a joke for him for decades, until he finally did the strip), so I'm finally getting to it. It did not go at all as planned, but that's the fun part.
> 
> Mild Season 8 spoilers again.

Salem sat in her throne of bones, regarding Atlas before her. It was rather beautiful, she thought, a city among the clouds, a shining jewel built on the wealth of Dust and the sweat of humans and Faunus in Mantle below. She’d succeeded at Vale, failed at Mistral, and figured it was time to up her record to 2-1 on the season. 

And it was going very swimmingly. Her biggest adversaries—Ozpin’s brats in Team RWBY and JNR, and General James Ironwood—were at each other’s throats. She had subtly manipulated Ironwood, but she’d never thought he would go completely around the bend into pure insanity. True, she’d lost her chance at getting the Winter Maiden’s power, but her own Fall Maiden—Cinder Fall—would be returning to the fold soon enough. Her enemies were divided, she was united, and Atlas was merely a matter of time. For now, their hard light shields would protect them from a direct assault, but why should she even launch one? Salem would do what she had always done, wait, and let her enemies tear each other apart.

Yes, things were going well. Except there was still something wrong.

With a rather squicky noise of membranes parting—most everything on her floating whale base was organic, and Salem reminded herself that she really needed to name the thing at some point—Emerald Sustrai walked in. She’d switched over to a new outfit, one that was a great deal warmer for Atlas’ frozen climes, and one that didn’t risk her bosom spilling out if she bent over too far. She was carrying a bowl of soup. For the past few months since the botched attack on Mistral, Emerald had elected herself the Evernight Castle cook, and she was still doing it aboard the whale. Oddly, considering Salem had threatened her life on more than one occasion, Emerald had taken it on herself to feed the witch and make sure Salem took care of herself. “Dinner!” she called out.

Salem idly pointed to the small table next to the throne. Emerald set it down, bowed, and began to leave, but the Queen of the Grimm ordered, “Stay.” She got up from the throne, and began to pace. “Emerald…I’m bored.”

“Bored?” Emerald was surprised. “But Mistress Salem, we’re here. We’re at Atlas! From here, it looks like you’re winning!”

“I know.” Salem sighed. “And I’m still bored.” She pointed at the magical image projected before the throne. “Atlas is almost ready to be plucked, but I have to wait until Irondad—er, Ironwood finishes wrecking his own military. Team RWBY is about to be destroyed, but I need to wait until the Atlesian military does it for me—or at least weakens them. So I must wait.” She deliberately left out that Cinder had contacted her and was returning; Salem wanted that to be a surprise. “I kind of want to get this party started, but I can’t. So, as you see…I’m bored.”

Emerald chewed her lip in thought. “Well…we could play Cards Against Grimm.”

“Mercury always wins that. Twisted little shit.”

“D&D?”

“Hazel’s still angry I killed his character with the sympathy trap.”

“Monopoly?”

Salem stared at the former thief. “What kind of sick person do you think I am?” She threw up her hands in frustration. “Dammit! There’s probably a hundred things I could be doing, but I don’t want to do any of them!”

Emerald hesitated, looked at the door, then decided to go for it. “Er…we could…um…have s-sex.”

She said it in such a quiet voice, Salem wasn’t sure she’d heard her. “What was that?”

“We could…you know…if you wanted to…” Emerald didn’t meet the witch’s eyes, one foot absently moving in front of the other. “I mean…since you’re bored…and it might be fun…”

Salem walked over to her. “You want to…with me? When did this start?”

“The night I gave you the massage.”

“Ah, the night you introduced me to the hamburger and we had the pillow fight.”

“Yes.” Emerald dared to meet Salem’s bright, blood-red eyes. “Mistress Salem, you’re so beautiful. And while I do like men, I also like women. And I’ve…well…I’ve wanted you for awhile.”

Salem actually blushed. She’d had legions of lovers. None could match Ozma, the man she loved to hate and hated to love, but Emerald had, strangely, become a friend, and she wanted her too. And it would release some frustration, certainly. She sighed, and gently put her arms on Emerald’s shoulders. “I…I am flattered, Emerald Sustrai, but I worry I might be too much for you. I might literally blow your mind.”

Emerald decided that, since she was in for a penny, she might as well be in for a pound. “What if…I was in charge?”

Salem almost laughed at the thought of a street thief “in charge” of the Undead Queen of the Grimm, but the thought intrigued her. “Explain.”

“What if I was in charge?” Emerald repeated. “Like, I don’t know…I gave the orders? Maybe even…well…maybe even tied you up?” She made the last a question, and hoped Salem would take it in the spirit it was intended, rather than laughing and then removing Emerald’s head. 

“Bondage? Is that what you and Cinder used to do?”

“Sometimes.” Emerald wasn’t sure if she wanted to air the Fall Maiden’s kinky side in public, but in reality, Cinder Fall _did_ enjoy being tied up. Nothing too bizarre or painful, but there was an odd part of Cinder’s personality that liked being dominated. 

“There’s a surprise,” the witch said sarcastically. Salem gave it some thought, however. Bondage was something she had tried, of course; there was very little Salem _hadn’t_ tried. The last time she’d lost her temper with the idiot Faunus, ripped the cords from her body, and drowned him in the Grimm pools. _The safeword was banana,_ she groused, _it’s not hard to pronounce._ Still, it was something to do, and truth to tell, Salem thought Emerald was cute as a button, even in her new outfit. “Very well,” she agreed. 

“Okay,” Emerald said. “I’ll be back in a minute! I want to change into something a little more…comfortable.”

“Oh ho.” Salem watched Emerald hurry off, a little excited despite herself. She cast a spell to turn the heat up a bit—no reason to be uncomfortable—and waited patiently. 

Emerald returned, and Salem’s eyes nearly popped out. The thief had changed into all black: black corset, black panties, black knee-high boots, and black gloves; the corset pushed Emerald’s somewhat small breasts upwards. She tapped a riding crop against her thigh; in the other hand was a suitcase. “Ready for Emerald’s Fun Dungeon?”

Salem nodded, but held up a pale hand. “Ground rules. A little pain is fine, but too much and it will go very badly for you. No ball gags; those make me want to vomit, and you don’t want to see what I would vomit. No objects being inserted in my body without my express permission.” She reached up and undid the stays in her hair, letting the white curls fall to her shoulders. 

Emerald reluctantly put down the suitcase, it was full of her various “toys.” Salem might change her mind, though. “Safeword?”

“If you see my eyes glowing and I start growling at you like a Grimm, untie me immediately or I will reduce you to base molecules.”

Emerald swallowed nervously. “Uh, okay.”

Salem put her hands behind her back. “Very well, Emerald. You are in charge. What would you like me to do…” The witch smiled. “…mistress?”

The thief blinked. “You mean…”

“It _is_ your dungeon, mistress.” The unadulturated sex in the way Salem said the last word sent a jolt of pure lust through Emerald. With an effort, she controlled herself, and put more confidence into her voice than she felt. “Very good, Salem!” she commanded. “Now take off your clothes.”

“By your command.” Emerald’s heart began to thud harder as Salem slowly reached up and undid the clasp at her throat. Her cape fell to the floor. Next she moved her fingers in a seemingly random pattern, and the robe peeled itself off Salem like a living thing. The witch stepped forward, completely naked. Her skin was alabaster, somehow not at all marred by the black veins that wrapped around her hands and arms, her feet and ankles, her thighs and shins, and breasts and face—in fact, Emerald thought, they enhanced Salem’s beauty rather than detracted from it. Each spidery vein seemed to entice the viewer to look at Salem’s face, her breasts, or her smooth crotch. “I am naked, mistress.”

“You sure as hell are,” Emerald breathed, then shook herself. “Um…I mean...” She stepped forward, having to remind herself that she was in charge here. Supposedly. “Kneel before Emerald.”

Salem slowly dropped to her knees, and bowed her head. “By your command…mistress.”

_Oh boy,_ Emerald thought, having to consciously stop herself from trembling. She didn’t know who was controlling who here. She quickly opened the suitcase and pulled out a few lengths of silk cord. Salem raised an eyebrow. “Only the best,” Emerald assured her, and the witch nodded. “Now…er…close your eyes.” The red eyes fluttered shut.

The thief quickly went to work before she could change her mind. She bound Salem’s hands behind her, gently, then her ankles. Emerald gulped; Salem’s skin was deceptively soft and umarred. “Okay, um, you can open them again.”

Salem did so, and her gaze was far from submissive. If anything, it was daring Emerald to do even more. “Uh…” her mind went blank at the figure of Salem, smiling up at her, bound wrists and ankles. 

“Would you like to spank me, mistress?” Salem offered. She slowly bent down, putting her rather attractive derriere in the air. 

Emerald whimpered. “Yes…no…maybe…” Then her hands flew up to the corset and ripped it open; Emerald’s tanned breasts bounced free. “I can’t stand it anymore! I want _you_ to spank _me!”_

Salem straightened up. “By your command.” There was a hissing sound, and the cords turned into smoke. Emerald was shaking so hard she couldn’t get much of anything done, but the witch walked to her, tipped up her chin, and with more gentleness than anyone would have thought, kissed Emerald on the lips. The thief sagged in her embrace, and Salem’s hands moved down her arms, flanks and sides. Clothes dissolved at her touch. Salem broke the kiss and stared down into the thief’s eyes, which were almost as red as her own. “My turn, dearest Emerald.”

“It’s really something, isn’t it?” Cinder Fall said, as she and Neo Politan walked down the red halls of the whale base. “I admit the décor’s kind of creepy, especially as it’s all organic. She wasn’t quite finished with this monster the last time I was back at Evernight.” She motioned to alcoves and doorways. “Let’s see…over there’s the cafeteria…that’s Torture Chamber Four…that might be crew’s quarters over there.” Cinder nodded. “Yes, it’s quite impressive.”

Neo rolled her eyes. It _was_ impressive, but she did not like being in this thing. The whale was some kind of living thing, the biggest Grimm Remnant had ever seen, and she was literally inside of it. She’d read stories where people got eaten by whales, and they didn’t usually end well for all involved. Plus she was getting tired of Cinder’s preening. And of Cinder in general. 

“Ah, here we are,” the Fall Maiden finally said, as they came to a large door. “The throne room. The nerve center of the whale. Salem began building this section first, and the entire whale was built around it—grown around it would be a better description—“

Neo took out her Scroll and rapidly typed on it. Cinder had refused to learn more than the basics of sign language, so this was the way they communicated. WHO ARE YOU TRYING TO IMPRESS? she wrote.

Cinder soured. “You know how to take the fun out of everything.”

I’M JUST HERE FOR THE PAYCHECK, Neo typed back, and suddenly turned into Ruby Rose. AND TO KILL THIS BITCH. She shifted back.

“Whatever.” Cinder walked forward, the door opened automatically, and both Fall Maiden and assassin walked up the steps, following the glowing red line they’d been following since they docked. And then they stopped.

Salem was sitting in her throne, naked. Across her lap, bound at ankles and wrists, was an equally naked Emerald. The latter’s rear end was a bit more red than usual, as Salem slapped both cheeks—not hard enough to truly hurt, but enough that Emerald was moaning with each sting, rising to meet the witch's hand. Of course, it might have hurt more if Salem wasn’t wearing oven mitts, but that just made it more arousing. “Oh, Mistress Salem, harder, harder!” Emerald groaned. “I’m so close!”

The throne rotated to face them. Salem regarded Cinder and Neo. “Oh. Hello there.”

Emerald realized they were no longer alone, opened her eyes, and gasped. “Oh shit! Cinder? _Neo?”_ She tried to squirm free, which would have left her falling to the floor, but Salem grabbed her and kept her in place. 

Cinder tried to find her voice. Neo did not have that problem, so to speak. Instead she typed out WHAT THE FUCK?

Abruptly, Cinder remembered that technically she was still in Salem’s doghouse, so she dropped to her knees…which were shaking a bit. With horror, the Fall Maiden realized she was kind of aroused by the sight. “My queen,” she intoned, and that didn’t help any.

“Cinder,” Salem greeted. She began lightly spanking Emerald again. “When I chose you as my vessel for the Maidens, I put my trust in you. So I trust you wouldn’t return to me, emptyhanded.” She took off the oven mitts and began lightly massaging Emerald's thighs. The thief was caught between bliss and utter embarrassment.

Neo was shaking her head, and once more held up her message, clearly wanting an answer from someone. Salem sighed. “To answer your question, Neo Politan, this is pretty much exactly what it looks like.” With a little bit of devilment, the witch decided to mess with the assassin a little. “It’s what we call around here…” A finger dipped into Emerald’s folds, and the thief barely bit back a scream “…Taco Tuesday.”

Neo’s Scroll clattered to the floor as the assassin’s mouth fell open in horror. Cinder, who had been taking the Relic of Knowledge off her belt, nearly dropped it in shock. They all heard boots on the stonelike floor, and Tyrian Callows walked in, his usual hyenalike smile on his face. Then he took in naked Salem, naked (and very turned on) Emerald, a very shocked Neo, and an alternately shocked and somewhat turned on Cinder. “My…my queen?” he stammered. “But…I…I…” Then he turned around and fled, screaming. 

Salem sighed. “Great. Now Tyrian’s going to be even more useless.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, hey, is that the _Relic?_ ” Unceremoniously, Salem dumped Emerald to the floor and padded over to Cinder. “Well, hot damn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Neo. She really doesn't know what she's gotten into, has she? And poor Emerald, who just ends up being the butt monkey in so many of these stories. (At least she's not being interrupted by Jason Voorhees this time.)
> 
> This story really was supposed to be Emerald tying Salem up, and then Cinder and Neo finding them, but as I wrote it, something told me that Emerald wants Salem a lot more than the other way around, and the seducer became the seducee. It's actually a bit funnier that way IMHO, and the part with Salem grossing out Neo was last minute inspiration. There's a little bit of Loki in Salem...
> 
> Keep the suggestions coming!


	58. Just Between You and Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taiyang comes home to cook dinner for himself, Summer, Yang and Qrow. But Qrow and Yang are gone to the neighbor's, and Summer's disappeared.
> 
> Until she comes down to the kitchen wearing nothing but her cloak, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Stan Lee used to say, "Because you demanded it!" Several folks have asked me to write when Summer got pregnant with Ruby, so here you go. It has a little bit of a twist, because no story in this fanfic would be complete without one.
> 
> This one was fun to write. Nothing actually too crazy in this chapter--just a cute, fluffy story between two people who really love each other, and have a lot of fun in the process. So sweet your dentist will hate me.

Taiyang Xiao Long got out of Skippy—the family car—and checked the fender for dents. There were plenty there, but there was a big, new one. He groaned, made a mental note to ask Summer if she'd gotten any better at parallel parking (she obviously hadn't), then went back to the trunk, popped it, got out the groceries, slammed the trunk with an axe kick while he carried both bags, and walked into the house. “Hello! I’m home!” It was his turn to cook tonight. “Summer? Yang?” There was no answer, so Tai shrugged and put the groceries down on the counter. Maybe Summer had taken Yang for a walk in the woods.

“Hi, Tai!” Summer called out, startling him. He made another mental note to work on his ambush tactics, because Summer had managed to sneak up on him. Usually he could hear her boots on the wooden floor. 

“Hey, hon.” He turned as she closed the front door. “Whoops, sorry. Forgot to close that. Guess I was born in a barn--” Then he nearly dropped the bag of groceries he was holding as Summer flashed him. She whipped open and closed her cloak so fast he almost missed the fact that she was naked beneath it. “Whoa.” That was why he hadn't heard her boots--she wasn't wearing them. She wasn't wearing anything but her white cloak.

Summer skipped up to him. “Mm-hm.” She stood on tiptoes and kissed him. He saw the smoldering look in her silver eyes and swallowed involuntarily. _Uh oh._ They’d only been married for two months, but Tai had already discovered that, below Summer’s demure, shy demeanor burned a sexual tornado that could not be stopped or even slowed down. She’d been a virgin when they’d married, which had surprised Tai a little—but like a child with a new toy, Summer simply could not get enough. Tai was not complaining in the least, though he was very happy that his Aura protected him from friction burns. 

“Can you guess what I want for dinner?” she murmured as she kissed him again.

“Let’s see,” Tai replied, “goulash.”

She chortled. “Eventually.” She was unbuttoning his shirt. “I was thinking maybe you might want _me_ for dinner.”

Tai sighed happily. "Ah, wedded bliss." They really did need to fix some food, but he supposed that could wait a bit. “That sounds yummy, but what about Yang?”

“Qrow has taken her for a walk over to Madame Mollari’s. A _long_ walk.” She winked at him. “I told him what was up, and he volunteered.”

“Hope you didn’t gross him out.” Qrow Branwen was technically Tai’s _former_ brother-in-law, but the two men still regarded each other as family. That didn’t mean that Qrow liked to hear that someone he thought of as a brother, and someone he thought of as a sister, would be making sweet love while he was within six miles.

“No, he was very understanding.” He let her get his shirt off, shrugged it off to the floor, then picked her up in his muscular arms. He opened the cloak: his eyes hadn’t been deceiving him. Summer was, to put it mildly, without apparel. He kissed her breasts—they were small but proportioned to her short frame, topped with pinkish nipples that rose at his attention—and set her down on the stove. Summer yelped and jumped back in his arms. “What’s wrong?”

“Ow! Still hot.” She hopped down to the kitchen floor, rubbing her bottom. “I fixed some cookies for Qrow and Yang earlier.”

“You okay?”

“Oh hell yeah. Aura’s great.” She suddenly leaped back into his arms, tucked her feet around his middle, and gave him a sloppy kiss. “Bedroom.”

“Yes’m.” He began to carry her in that general direction, but then realized that he’d bought ice cream, and it would be neopolitan soup by the time they got done. Tai stopped, turned, and reached for the ice cream, which was not easy with a naked Summer clinging to him like a lamprey, trying to explore his tonsils with her tongue, and rubbing her crotch very distractingly against this bare stomach, which was causing his erection to painfully strain against his cargo shorts. Somehow, he managed to get the ice cream, open the freezer, toss in the ice cream, and slam it shut. “You could’ve set me down,” she told him.

“It’s cool.” 

Summer stopped with her kissing. “Puns? Really?”

Tai considered it. “I didn’t mean that one, but it was pretty good, huh?’

“No.” She grinned at him. “Has anyone ever told you your puns suck?”

“You did. Twice. This morning.”

“Just making sure.” She cleared her throat. “Bedroom!” she commanded.

Tai quickly ran through his shopping list, making sure that everything perishable was either in the refrigerator or could wait. He managed to get turned around and headed for the stairs, but now Summer was licking his neck. “Okay, we got to stop.”

“Noooo!” Summer protested as he pried her off and set her down. He quickly untied and got his shoes off, hopping around on one foot while Summer giggled at him. She then grabbed his belt and dragged him back to her, and helped him get his shorts and boxers off. His hardness sprang free, bouncing just by her nose. Summer threw both hands in the air. “Yay!” She grabbed it and kissed the head. 

Suddenly it was Tai that was the tornado through a trailer park. With a growl, he grabbed her, bodily lifted her off her feet, and set her down on the staircase. Summer’s eyes widened as Tai pushed her thighs aside. “Tai, on the _stairs?”_

“Yep!” He pushed into her, but the first thrust caused her to bang her head on one of the other stairs, and her back gave an audible pop. Tai stopped. “Dammit! Sorry, Summer.”

She gently withdrew him from her, then knelt on the stairs and kissed his nose. “The bed’s a lot more comfy, you know.”

“Your fault for getting me all excited.”

She snickered, stood and turned, walking up the stairs. Her cloak billowed just enough to give Tai tantalizing glimpses of her thighs and pert bottom. She stopped at the top landing, turned, and beckoned him before dashing into the bedroom in a blur of white and red. Tai growled and ran up the stairs after her. He went into the bedroom and slammed the door. 

Summer leapt onto the bed and began jumping up and down, which stopped Tai like someone had hit him with a two-by-four. The sight of Summer bouncing nicely would be enough to cause a statue to come to life, monks to forget their vows, and Salem to realize she wasn’t the fairest of them all. She purposely kicked her legs outwards and landed on her back. Breathlessly, she once more beckoned him forward. Tai let out a war whoop and jumped onto the bed next to her. They laughed, and Tai rolled her over, pinning her shoulders to the bed. “Gotcha.”

“Nuh-uh,” Summer shook her head. “I want to be on top today.”

Tai used his knees to pry apart her legs again. “Nope.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Oh?” Summer got her legs free, got one behind his head and the other on his neck, then grabbed his head and forced it down. She was not putting too much pressure on—it was a submission hold that could strangle an opponent—but it effectively immobilized Tai despite her much lower weight. “I _said_ I want to be on top.”

He smiled down at her. His hands were still free, and he reminded her of that fact by putting his fingers against a certain spot and rubbing it. Tai’s smile widened. “Which one breaks first?” he asked.

Summer gasped, but tightened the hold. “I. Want. To. Be. On. Top!”

Tai decided he’d messed around with her enough. “Okay, okay. You’re so greedy.” He gave one last rub, then ran his fingers down her folds to tease her there, before slapping the bed thrice. She dropped the hold. “Jerk!” Summer stuck her tongue out at him.

“Well, if you insist.” He rose to his knees and thrust out his erection. “Here you go. Jerk away.” Summer gave him a dirty look and flicked it with her finger. “Ow!”

“Those puns of yours,” she said as they switched positions. “You do realize you’re a bad influence on Yang.”

“Meh.” Tai leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “Leave the cloak on. It’s sexy as hell.” Somehow it enhanced Summer’s nudity, made it more erotic.

“I intend to.” She took hold of him and gently impaled herself on his member. She winced. Tai was instantly serious. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Just…need to be careful here.” They had learned something else, on their honeymoon: Tai was actually a bit too big for Summer. Still, they managed. Slowly, she pushed up, and then down. She smiled down at him. “It’s okay. More than okay.” She leaned down until they were pressed against each other, her breasts against his chest, her cloak forming a blanket over both of them. “I love you, Taiyang Xiao Long.”

“I love you, Summer Rose.”

He tenderly grabbed her rear and began thrusting into her. The room was quiet, filled with only the sound of skin on skin, heavy breathing, and the occasional giggle from Summer when they lost their rhythm. It was not long before her giggles ceased, however, and she began to make little noises at the back of her throat. Despite himself, it always made Tai think of his first wife, Raven Branwen: when Raven approached her peak, she would start spewing curse words like a drunken sailor who had just dropped a wrench on his toe, to the point that she would be screaming by the time they were done. Summer, however, was more quiet: she would gasp, make little moans, and usually do nothing more than let out a long groan or clench her teeth when she finally reached orgasm. 

So Tai was surprised when Summer suddenly threw her head back. “ _Ah, gods, Tai!”_ she shouted. _“I’m going to have a baby!”_

“You _what?”_ Tai stopped thrusting instantly, but it was too late for Summer. She pulsed around him, her fingers painfully gripping his biceps. He stared at her until her breathing finally evened out. Summer pushed sweat-dampened hair out of her way and kissed him. “What did you say?” he asked her.

“I’m going to have a baby,” Summer repeated, albeit in a lot calmer tone of voice.

“But…I didn’t…not yet…” He pointed down, to where he was still inside of her.

Summer pushed back against him. “No, silly. I’m pregnant. Probably a few weeks along, I guess. You might’ve knocked me up on our honeymoon, which would be pretty neat.” 

“How do you know?”

She motioned with her head towards the bathroom. “The test kit’s in there, if you don’t believe me.”

“But you’ve been feeling okay!” He recalled Raven’s morning sickness, which had gotten her to get tested. “Haven’t you?”

“Mm-hm. Just fine. But I wanted to check.” She traced her finger through his blonde chest hair. “I haven’t been using any contraception for awhile, Tai. I really… _really_ want to have your children.” She leaned down until their foreheads were touching. “We talked about it before we got married…and I honestly didn’t know if I could concieve, remember? My mother had a heck of a time with me. But…we did it, Tai. Yang’s going to have a brother.” She shrugged. “Or a sister, maybe.” Her eyes were shining with tears. “You’re not mad, are you?”

Tai wiped his own eyes. “No, Summer. Gods, no.” He drew her down to his lips. “If you’re okay with it, so am I.”

“I should’ve told you I wasn’t…taking anything…” Summer was beginning to well and truly cry. 

“It’s okay,” he reassured her. “We _did_ talk about it, after all. I’m so happy for you.” Tai knew Summer had worried that she could never have children of her own. Now they were going to. “Happy for us.” He started laughing, remembering that, when Raven had stormed in to angrily tell him she was pregnant with Yang, they’d ended up in this very bed, in this very bedroom. He brushed away her tears. “Want me to make you more pregnant?”

She laughed and wiped her face. “Definitely.” Summer rose up, putting her hands on his chest, her knees to either side of his hips. “Time to activate my Semblance!”

“Gods, no!” He began to push back into her again. “Not unless you want this to be our _only_ kid together.”

“Wouldn’t want that. I think I want ten of ‘em.” She began to throw a little rotation into her hips as she went up and down, and Tai, despite his best efforts, did not last much longer. He gave one last thrust—careful not to go too far and hurt her—and let loose. Summer closed her eyes and sighed in satisfaction. Once _he’d_ caught his breath, she slid him out of herself and went into the bathroom. She came back out with the little pink wand and pointed to it. Tai jumped up, ran to the window, and threw it open. “Hey, Remnant!” he yelled at the top of his lungs while Summer tittered. “I’m gonna be a daddy! Again!”

“No shit!” Qrow yelled back. Tai suddenly realized he and Yang were standing at the edge of the woods. Luckily, from this angle and her own tiny height, Yang could not tell her father wasn’t wearing anything. All the same, Qrow grinned up at his brother-in-law. “Congrats, you bast—“ He remembered Yang was right there, holding onto his hand. “Congrats, you two!” Qrow amended.

Yang was beaming. “I’m gonna have a sister!” she cheered. Yang looked like she’d been playing in mud, which was an entirely accurate assessment. One of her pigtails had come loose; the other stuck out at an odd angle. 

Qrow bent down while Tai retreated out of sight, though he could hear Summer howling with laughter. “You know,” he told Yang, “you might have a little brother.”

“Yuck,” Yang replied, then folded her arms in defiance. “Nope. Little sister.” She said it with the total conviction of a three year old. Then she stared up at him, lilac eyes big. “Unca Qrow?” she asked. “How does Mommy and Daddy know I’m going to have a sister? Did the stork tell them?”

“Er…yeah. Yeah, the stork was here earlier.” Qrow laughed nervously.

“Aww…I wanted to see the stork.”

Qrow picked Yang up and put her on his shoulders. “Your mama wanted to surprise your dad with what the stork had to say. That’s why we had to go visit Mrs. Mollari.” He began to spin around in slow circles while walking towards the front door. “Now let’s go have some cookies!”

Luckily, three year olds are easily distracted. “Yay!” Yang exclaimed. “Cookies!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing Summer and Tai, and this makes a more pleasant sequel to Chapter 50 ("What to Expect When You're Expecting"). Or, if you like, a prequel to "Sunshine and Summertime," which has a better ending than canon RWBY would. 
> 
> The submission move Summer uses is a gogoplata, one used in MMA and famously as the "Hell's Gate" by the Undertaker in WWE. In the sort-of loose canon of "Love Hurts," Summer has wrestling experience!
> 
> Originally, I was going to end this with Raven in her bird form in the trees, with a bit of a tear in her eyes, but that was way too depressing and mood whiplash for this, so no Raven. I like this ending better.


	59. Burning For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team RWBY has launched a desperate attempt to rescue Oscar Pine from the clutches of Salem. All they have to do is get past Cinder Fall, Emerald Sustrai, Mercury Black and the Hound Grimm. In other words, it's basically a suicide mission. 
> 
> But then Cinder starts acting very weird...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait until tomorrow night to post, but then inspiration struck. (Clearly, my muse has been hitting the booze lately; can't say as I blame her.) This one didn't come as a suggestion from anyone, though I will say one of the chapters of "RWBY Halloween" ("Cinder's Exorcises) undoubtedly was part of the inspiration.

Jaune Arc gritted his teeth and ducked behind his shield, even as the force of the flames knocked him back a few feet. He could feel the heat through the metal. “Not the best idea we’ve ever had…”

“We have to keep fighting!” Ruby dodged two shots from Emerald Sustrai’s pistols. “We have to get to Oscar!”

_Easier said than done,_ Jaune thought to himself. He glanced over the top of his shield. Cinder Fall just grinned at him savagely. She brought up her Grimm hand and tapped the side of her face, where he’d nearly killed her at the Battle of Haven, clearly inviting him to try it again.

Jaune checked the others. Weiss was holding her own against Mercury Black, but Yang and Blake weren’t having much luck against the Grimm Hound, who was throwing them around like squeaky toys. Worse, it was laughing at them, a deep brasso profundo. 

Simply put, their rescue mission was not going well. Emerald, Mercury, the Hound Grimm, and Cinder had hit them the moment they landed their airspeeder in the giant whale’s landing bay. The only piece of good news was that Salem, at least, was distracted by her assault on Atlas. They had no idea if Oscar was even still alive, or the Queen of the Grimm hadn’t just disposed of him after she’d tortured how to activate the Relic out of him.

_Remember your training,_ Jaune thought to himself. He brought the shield down, braced his sword over the top, and advanced on Cinder—not in an all-out offensive that would leave him open, but a relentless advance that would allow him to get closer to the Fall Maiden. Cinder smirked and threw a few fireballs in his direction. He fended them off and kept moving. Cinder’s smirk faltered a little, she let loose another blast of fire, and once more Jaune ducked behind his shield. His Aura flared, protecting him from the heat, but he knew neither he nor Crocea Mors was going to take much more. Finally it abated; a quick look, and he was close enough. With a scream of rage, he stepped forward and brought the sword down in an overhead strike. Cinder summoned her obsidian blades and stopped the strike, but he noticed he’d forced her back a step. He went to bash her with his shield.

Suddenly, Cinder dropped down to her knees and swept her feet beneath his. Jaune, taken by surprise, slipped and fell hard. The sword bounced out of his hands; he kept hold of the shield only because he was strapped to it. Cinder leapt back to her feet and brought down both blades for the killing blow; Jaune swung the shield up and barely blocked it. The tips of the obsidian blades glowed as they sank into the shield, and began melting through it. 

_“Jaune!”_ Ruby cried, and jumped for him, but had to roll to one side as Emerald tried to cut her throat with the knives attached to her pistols. 

Cinder looked down at Jaune. “You’ve gotten better, Jaune,” she said. “Much better than you were at Haven. But you’re still the same death-seeking fool. Still pining away for your poor dead Pyrrha. And now…” Cinder pressed down on the blades; Jaune could feel the hideous heat coming from them, and knew he was only moments from them burning through his shield. “Now I’m going to make sweet love to you.”

Jaune’s eyes widened. “You’re going to…what?”

Cinder blinked. “I’m…I’m going to ki…kil…kil…screw…screw you.” She shook her head. “What’s…what’s happening…”

“I don’t know either!” Jaune exclaimed. The blades had stopped burning through his shield, but that was because Cinder let go of them. Her hands—both her human and Grimm ones—twitched. 

“I…no…I can’t…you’re…what…” Cinder’s eyes widened as well, but in horror as her hands reached up and whipped off her cape. Next they began working on her collar. She let out a growl, then clasped her hands to her mouth—but only for a moment, because her Grimm hand sprouted claws and sliced open her tunic from throat to navel. “What’s…happening…to…me…” Slowly, against Cinder trying to resist, it tore away both haves, revealing that Cinder didn’t wear a bra with her outfit. 

Combat had ceased. Mercury’s foot was balanced on Weiss' sword where she had caught it, while Emerald stared popeyed at Cinder. Ruby was doing the same. The Hound stopped just before it would’ve used Blake as a club to beat Yang with. Instead, it used the Faunus to motion at Cinder, and grunted, clearly asking Yang a question. “How the hell should I know?” Yang yelled back. “You’re the Grimm, you tell me!”

As they watched, Cinder seemed to convulse, then she threw her head back and screamed. Flames flared along her legs and torso with enough intensity that they all shielded their eyes. When it faded, Cinder was only wearing her stockings and eyepatch. As if possessed, she knocked Jaune’s shield to one side with the Grimm arm, grabbed Jaune’s belt, and began unbuckling it. By the jut of her nipples and the hunger on her face, it was clear Cinder’s intention was not to compare birthmarks. She jerked down his pants and briefs, and fended off Jaune’s attempts to cover himself. Cinder lowered her face to his groin, then stopped. “No…” she groaned. “I…don’t…” Then she shook her head again. “I...do…want…him…” And with that, she grabbed Jaune (luckily, with her human hand), and fastened her lips around his member. It wasn’t flaccid for long.

Emerald’s pistols clattered to the floor. “Cinder? How…but I thought…I thought we…”

Ruby rested on her scythe, glad to take a breather. “Wow.” As Jaune involuntarily lifted up off the ground and bit back a groan, Ruby reached into her dress and pulled out her Scroll. She began filming. Emerald stared at her. “What’s _wrong_ with you?”

“Just taking some notes,” Ruby assured her. “I need to work on my oral…er…you didn’t hear that.”

Mercury pulled his boot back from Weiss and let her get back to her feet. “Damn. Figures.”

Cinder finally let loose of Jaune with a alternately erotic and disgusting slurping noise, then straddled him, and pushed Jaune inside of her. As she began slowly going up and down, she looked down at him. “Jaune…you fool...why…I don’t…I can’t…I can’t stop…”

Jaune wasn’t sure if he should be enjoying the experience of being buried in the Fall Maiden or being scared out of his mind. She might be evil incarnate, but she was also damned beautiful, even with the burn scars and Grimm arm. “Uh…Cinder?” He was staying motionless, but it was taking a lot of willpower not to start thrusting away. Of course, there was also the issue of four other people and one Grimm watching while Cinder rode him like he was the prize bull at the rodeo. Jaune had gotten plenty of experience in sex with Weiss, but he’d never performed in front of a live studio audience.

The Hound Grimm had let go of Blake and leaned forward, cocking his head to one side. As Yang rolled to her feet, Blake turned red with embarrassment. Seized by an instinct she couldn’t quite explain, she reached out and covered the Grimm’s eyes. It growled at her, but she shook her head. “You’re too young to see this,” she explained. 

The Hound slumped. “No,” it said.

“Yes, you are,” Blake insisted.

“Well, I’m not,” Yang said. “Yeah, Jaune!” she cheered. “Sock it to her, kid!” With her other hand, Blake covered Yang’s mouth.

“Ah, gods, Jaune!” Cinder screamed, gripping her breasts, her eye rolling back. _“Yes!”_

Mercury let out a breath he wasn’t aware of holding. “Whoa.”

Weiss smiled proudly. "I taught him everything he knows."

Emerald burst into tears, falling to her knees. “Cinder, no!” Ruby, who had put away her Scroll once Cinder had mounted Jaune (she figured she was already good enough at the cowgirl position; certainly Oscar had never complained), hesitated, then knelt next to the former thief, patting her shoulder. Emerald turned and continued to bawl into Ruby’s shoulder.

“Can’t…hold…on…” Jaune’s resolve collapsed and he began pushing into Cinder, who let out a happy laugh. Mercury and Weiss both took a step back in shock, Emerald cried even harder, and Yang pushed Blake’s hand away. Blake used both hands to cover the Hound’s eyes, even as it tried to pull them away. 

“Yes…Jaune…” Cinder stopped for a moment, her expression changed to one of confusion, then she blinked a few times. “But…I don’t…you…you can’t…you can’t…” Then her expression relaxed back into a happy smile, and she began meeting Jaune’s thrusts with her own. Cinder’s breath was now ragged and faster, her human hand running Jaune’s shirt up under his armor, even as the Grimm hand left rents in the floor. “She’s almost there, Jaune!” Yang called out. “Bring it home!”

“Yang!” Blake protested in embarrassment. She was sure that if Yang had pom-poms, she’d be jumping up and down.

Emerald was inconsolable. Ruby, with a heart so big that she cared even for her enemies, cradled her closer. “Don’t look, Emerald,” she said, stroking the other girl’s back. “Don’t look.”

Mercury leaned closer to Weiss. “So I admit I don’t know much about this Maiden stuff,” he whispered. “Do you know what happens when one of ‘em has sex?”

Weiss’ reply was cut off as Cinder suddenly threw her head back and howled. An explosion of wind shot out from her on all sides, knocking everyone off their feet. Thunder rolled and boomed outside the whale, even as it snowed, and in the room, torrential rain suddenly fell on all of them for about thirty seconds, soaking everyone. 

Mercury wiped his face. “That answers that.”

Cinder lay against Jaune. “Oh…Jaune…I’ve always…always wanted…”

Jaune might’ve said something, either defiant or caring, but no one would ever know, for at that moment, the door burst open. Salem stood there, as soaked as everyone else, her white hair plastered against her head, her braids a hopeless mess, and her dress stuck to her skin; Yang, in passing, noticed that Salem didn’t care to wear underwear, either. “What in the purple hell is going on down here?” she shouted. “By the gods, I am in the middle of an assault on Atlas, and I…I…” She suddenly saw Cinder, still astride Jaune. “You have _got_ to be kidding me. In the middle of a fight, and you decide to bang this blonde moron in front of everyone? I always knew you were a slut, Cinder.”

Emerald left off crying into Ruby’s bosom (which was getting a bit embarrassing on its own) to raise her head. She pointed at Salem like an internet meme. “Leave her alone!”

Salem ignored her. “Fall Maiden,” she snorted, shaking her head. “Well? Care to explain why you took a fuck break?”

Cinder slowly stood. Jaune was still very erect, and he quickly covered himself; having a boner in front of the Queen of the Grimm was not something he ever thought he’d have to worry about. Eye closed, she turned in place to face Salem. Salem folded her arms across her breasts and tapped her foot impatiently. “I’m waiting.”

“It’s quite simple,” Cinder said. Her eye opened, and to Salem’s stunned surprise, the eye was no longer Cinder’s smoldering amber, but bright green. “I’m no longer Cinder. I am Pyrrha.” She pointed at Jaune. “When Cinder spoke my name and tried to kill the man I loved, I returned, and took possession of her. Now _I_ am the Fall Maiden, not Cinder Fall. This body may be hers, but the mind and soul are mine!”

Salem was silent, but then so was everyone else. Then the witch sighed. “So be it…Pyrrha.” She motioned at her. “Though your speech would be more impressive if you weren’t standing there naked and wet…in more ways than one.”

Cinder—or Pyrrha—covered herself. “I’m sorry,” she said, and there was no doubt that it was the former Invincible Girl of Mistral.

“I see I will have to destroy you all myself,” Salem growled, purple fire appearing around her arms. The Hound pushed Blake aside and loped to her side. Mercury gave Weiss a friendly nod and walked over next to Salem. Emerald dried her eyes, gave Ruby one last hug, picked up her pistols, and stumbled to the witch. “But first…” Salem pointed at Jaune. “At least get the boy off. The poor thing is ready to burst.” She shrugged. “I mean, I guess I could do it, unless someone else wants to volunteer.”

“Don’t you _dare,_ ” Blake warned Yang.

“I wasn’t!” Yang replied, truthfully. 

"I don't think I could look at him in the morning," Ruby said.

Weiss took a step forward, then stopped. "He's all yours, Pyrrha," she said, with a wistful smile. 

“I suppose I should…I mean, I’ve always wanted to…” Pyrrha turned back to Jaune, then hesitated. “Um…could everyone turn around? I’m a little embarrassed, all of a sudden.”

“Fine,” Salem grumbled, and twirled her fingers around. Mercury reluctantly obeyed; Emerald looked like she wanted to turn and run away. The Hound looked up at Salem. “No,” it said. Salem slapped its nose. It whined and turned around.

Pyrrha smiled down at Jaune and gently pulled his hands aside. It was Cinder’s face, but Pyrrha’s smile. “Hello again,” she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Jaune, which I say a lot in this fic. Having your girlfriend come back from the dead in your archenemy's body would be a tad awkward, especially when she's now one-third Grimmified. (Other fic writers have actually written this scenario in a more serious vein; there's some really good fics of "Pyrrha Returns as Cinder" out there.) 
> 
> And yes, Salem had a little bit of an Emperor Palpatine moment there.


	60. I'll Be There For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team RWBY is snowed in at Atlas Academy. With nothing else to do, they make some coffee and start talking about their relationships.
> 
> Namely, who they could have a relationship with, besides the ones they currently have...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maswartz suggested this awhile back, and it sounded like fun. Not only was it fun, but it gave me a ton of ideas for new fics! (Not that I won't accept new ones.)
> 
> No actual sex in this chapter, just four girls talking about it. In fact, this is a very talky chapter. Not that "Love Hurts" has any sort of timeline or remotely any canon, but this would take place before Yang and Blake's accidental threesome with Sun.

“Tonight,” Yang Xiao Long said with weighty importance, “is a great night for clubbing.” Then she sighed, looking out the window. The wind howled outside, enough to physically shake Atlas Academy, and snow reduced visibility to mere feet. None of the Bullheads or dropships were flying. “If it wasn’t snowing like hell, anyway.” She stomped back to her bunk. “Is this normal for Atlas?” she asked Weiss, who was on the dorm room computer.

“Pretty much,” Weiss answered. “Usually Mantle gets the worst of it because Atlas is higher up—that’s why the heating system in Mantle is so important. But sometimes you get high level storms, where _Atlas_ gets the worst of it. The mass of the city actually protects Mantle from those storms.”

“Well, _I_ have an idea,” Ruby said, coming out of the bathroom and drying her hair. Like Yang and Weiss, she was dressed in the gray and drab Atlas Academy fatigues. “You know what we haven’t done in a long time—since, like, we were at Beacon?” She threw up her hands. “Team-building exercises!”

“Oh, joy,” Blake murmured, her nose in _Ninjas of Love XI: Lust in the Lockdown._

Yang poked her. “Hey, it feels like Beacon already. I want to go clubbing, Weiss is doing homework, and Blake’s reading smut.” Blake did not look up from her book, but she gave Yang the finger.

“Don’t be such a downer,” Weiss said, much to the surprise of everyone. She saved and closed the file she was working on, which was actually on the efficiency of Amity Arena’s thrusters. “It _has_ been a long time since all of us just relaxed together.”

“Thank you, Weiss.” Ruby inclined her head in salute.

“So I’ll put on some coffee—or hot chocolate, if you’re so inclined,” Weiss added, “and I think we have some snacks left over from the other day.” She went over to the little kitchenette and began prepping the drinks.

“I’m down with it. Nothing to do anyway.” Yang nudged Blake. “C’mon, Blakey.”

“Oh, all right.” Blake put her bookmark in place and set down the book. It was kind of boring anyway, truth to be told. She got out of her bunk. “What did you have in mind, Ruby?”

Ruby looked a bit embarrassed. “Um…I’m not actually sure?” Blake rolled her eyes.

“Hell, let’s just hang,” Yang said, coming to her sister’s rescue. “We’ll figure something out.” 

So they did. Weiss got the coffee and hot chocolate ready, they broke out the snacks (cookies for Ruby, naturally; Weiss had crackers and very expensive Mistrali cheese dip; Yang and Blake enjoyed some banana cream pie). And then they…sat in the middle of the dorm room and stared at each other.

“Well, this got awkward,” Blake commented.

“We need to talk about _something,”_ Weiss agreed.

“Wellll…” Ruby stared down into her hot chocolate, turning red. “What if we…y’know…talked about…boys?”

Yang snickered. “Ah ha. Now that Rubes has herself a guy, she wants to talk about boys.” It had taken awhile for Yang to get used to the idea that Ruby and Oscar Pine were an item, but she finally accepted it, and in some odd fashion, was proud of her little sister after all. 

“Yeah, so?” Ruby shot back. “I mean, it’s about time I got to do some girl talk! Back at Beacon, I felt like a little kid!”

“You kind of were,” Yang replied. 

Before the sisters could get into a fight, Weiss cleared her throat. “This is going to sound very strange coming from me, but does anyone know any party games?” She didn’t really want to talk about boys. The only man remotely in Weiss’ life was Jaune Arc, and her sexual experience was limited to just him. Though, Weiss considered, she was hardly alone in that. Ruby had only been with Oscar; Blake, so far as Weiss knew, had only been with Adam Taurus and Yang. Yang was the most experienced, but even her partners could be counted on the fingers of one hand with digits to spare.

“I got an idea,” Yang said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh gods,” Blake groaned. 

“Quiet,” Yang commanded. “Okay, all of us are in relationships, right? Me and Blake, Rubes and Oscar, and Weissy and Jaune.”

“Kind of,” Weiss was quick to point out.

“Whatever.” Yang had noticed that Weiss liked to remind everyone that she and Jaune were just friends with benefits, but neither one had shown any inclination to be with anyone but each other. “But…if you could be with someone else, just for one night…who would it be?” Yang held up her hands defensively. “No judging either. Just for fun. And it could be anybody. If you want to say that Salem is hawt and you want to bang the Grimm Queen, you can say it and we’ll just laugh and make fun of you.”

“That is the literal definition of judging,” Blake said.

“Details!” Yang insisted. “Just for fun. No other reason.” She reached over and hugged a surprised Blake, and kissed her cheek. “C’mon, you.”

“All right,” Weiss agreed. “You first…” she turned in place with a sly smile “…Ruby.”

“Oh. Oh, man. Hmm.” Ruby leaned against the bunks and took a drink of hot chocolate for courage. “Someone besides Oscar…”

“Anybody,” Yang prompted. “You could even say General Ironwood.”

“Eww!” Ruby shuddered. “He’s old enough to be my dad!” She gave it some more thought. “Okay. Anyone? Nobody’s going to be offended or anything?”

“Anyone,” Yang confirmed.

“Jaune,” Ruby said, and nodded. “Definitely Jaune.” She immediately looked at Weiss. “Sorry, Weiss.”

“No, it’s okay. This is just for fun, and besides…well, you know.” Weiss drank her coffee to hide the redness in her cheeks. 

Yang leaned forward, looking like a wolf confronted with a confused sheep. “Okay, Ruby. _Why_ Jaune?”

Ruby had anticipated the question. “Let’s see. He’s tall, he’s good-looking—he’s _really_ filled out since Beacon—and he’s just a nice guy.” She turned red and looked down. “I don’t know about the other stuff…you know, like size—“

“No reason to get into that detail!” Weiss exclaimed.

As much as Yang liked to needle Weiss, she didn’t want to push it too far. “Nah, we don’t have to get into length and girth or anything. Or boobs, if it’s a girl you’re interested in.” She motioned directly at Blake’s breasts, and the Faunus’ cheeks colored, her ears flattening back. “Your turn, Weiss.”

Weiss set aside her coffee. “Anyone…” she mused. “Very well. Marrow Amin.”

Blake nearly choked on her coffee. “Marrow? A _Faunus?”_

Weiss smirked at her. “Blake, I’m shocked! And I thought you wanted Faunus and humans to cooperate. And hooking up, as it were, would be _very_ cooperative.”

Blake wiped her mouth and chuckled. “You’re right, Weiss.” She smiled to show she wasn’t offended. They’d come a long way since Beacon. “But why Marrow? Why not, say, Sun Wukong?”

“Oh, Sun’s gorgeous, no doubt about that. But he’s too immature. Marrow…I think he’s rather handsome—for a Faunus—and there’s just something about him that’s rather attractive to me.”

“It’s those puppy-dog eyes,” Yang laughed. “You want to pet him.”

“In more ways than one,” Blake put in. Ruby let out a peal of laughter, and it was Weiss’ turn to roll her eyes.

“All right, Blakey—your turn,” Yang pounced.

“That one’s easy. Sun,” Blake answered quickly. “And not because he’s a Faunus.”

“Abs,” Ruby said.

“Abs,” Blake confirmed.

“I’m really surprised you didn’t hook up with him in Menagerie,” Yang told her. “It’s not like we were together-together yet or anything.”

“I was tempted,” Blake admitted. “But there just wasn’t time, and honestly…I wasn’t sure how I felt about anyone then.”

Suddenly the environment threatened to become serious, so Ruby quickly said, “And let’s not forget that tail!” She made a show of shuddering. In truth, Ruby was very much enjoying herself—her first real “one of the girls” talks she’d been excluded from at Beacon.

“The tail has…possibilities,” Blake said, and blushed. She nudged Yang. “Okay, smartass, your turn.”

“Hmm.” Yang grinned. “Well, your mom is kinda hot, Blake.”

Blake’s eyes widened to the seeming size of platters. Weiss spit out her coffee, and Ruby turned as red as her namesake. “You are _not_ serious,” Blake breathed.

“Not in the least,” Yang laughed. “But somewhat seriously…Yatsuhachi. Remember him, from Team CFVY?”

“How could we forget?” Weiss nodded. “I can guess why. Because he’s big.”

“Yup.” Yang balanced her head in her hands and sighed. “Big in so many ways, I bet. I wonder how Velvet handles him.”

“Velvet? No way!” Ruby exclaimed in disbelief.

“She’s not wrong,” Blake told her. “There were a lot of rumors going around Beacon that Yatsu and Velvet were an item.”

“He’d tear that poor thing in half.” Weiss finished her coffee and got up to get another cup. “Now I have an idea,” she said as she poured. 

“Let’s hear it.” Yang grabbed the last piece of pie.

“So we have Ruby with Jaune, Blake with Sun, Yang with Yatsuhachi, and myself with Marrow.” Weiss leaned against the counter. “So how would we want them to use their Semblances on us?” She felt a little embarrassed to say it, but much like Ruby, she was enjoying this conversation as well. At Beacon, she’d also been excluded from things like this, both because she convinced herself she had no interest in such talk, and her reputation as the Ice Queen. But these were her friends now, and she felt more comfortable with them than anyone in the world.

Ruby, if it was possible, got more red. “Um…whoa. Jaune’s Semblance is Aura enhancement. How would that even work?” She looked straight at Weiss. 

Weiss managed to hide her own blush with her coffee cup and a lot of willpower, and shrugged. “To be honest, I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Well, how did it feel at Haven?”

Weiss gave her a disgusted look. “Ruby, I’d just had five feet of obsidian spear shoved through my liver and I’d passed out from shock. When I came to and Jaune was basically healing me, the last thing on my mind was ‘Oh, this is really a turn-on!’”

“Was it tingly?” Ruby persisted.

The former heiress couldn’t meet her team leader’s eyes. “Kind…kind of.”

Yang and Blake shared a smothered giggle. They could see the wheels turning behind Weiss’ eyes; Jaune was in for a surprise next time. To save their friend, Blake spoke up. “Well, Sun’s Semblance has all _kinds_ of power perversion potential. All those clones, with their hands?” She shivered, and it was no act. “I mean, Sun can’t hold his clones for long, but I don’t think it would _take_ long.”

“You know what Yatsu’s Semblance is? Vibration.” Yang licked her lips. “He’d be like a very, _very_ big vibrator.”

“I’m kind of afraid to ask how you know about vibrators,” Weiss said.

Yang snorted. “Duh! I used to have one! It’s _normal,_ Weiss.” 

Weiss gave a snort of her own, though she’d been tempted once or twice to buy one, and she knew (from accidental discovery while putting away Winter’s things) that her sister owned several. “Well, you’re wrong in any case, Yang. Yatsuhachi’s Semblance isn’t vibration. It’s memory alteration. He can erase memories.”

“No way. How do you know?”

Weiss nodded. “I asked him, once. He doesn’t like using it, but that’s his Semblance.”

Blake snickered. “Well, I can see how that could be used. If you were terrible in bed, he could erase you remembering it!”

“Hmpf.” Yang theatrically put a hand between her breasts and her nose in the air. “I’m _never_ terrible in bed.”

Blake said nothing about that, mainly because it was true. “You’re last, Weiss. Marrow’s Semblance?”

“Well…” Weiss could not hide her blush this time. “You admit it has…possibilities, as Blake said. Being frozen in place while he has…his…well, you know.”

Ruby giggled. “I think Weiss has a secret!”

Yang nodded. “Yep. I think Weissy likes to be tied up.”

“I do _not!”_ Weiss lied.

“That’s how Weiss uses _her_ Semblance,” Blake piled on.

“Oh? Well, you could use _your_ Semblance to fend off Sun’s clones if you weren’t feeling up to it. ‘Not tonight, Sun, I have a headache.’” Weiss did a terrible impression of Blake’s voice. Blake started chortling at how bad it was, and the mental image Weiss had brought.

“And if Yatsu’s too big, Yang can use _her_ Semblance!” Ruby was still pretty red, but she dissolved in laughter. “Angry Yang sex!”

“And Jaune would get friction burns on his dick, poor bastard!” Yang yelled, laughing just as hard. Finally, Weiss joined in as well, returning to the circle, and pushing an unresisting Ruby over.

When the laughter had finally ebbed, Blake put out her coffee cup in a toast. “I think we’d better just be satisfied with what we _do_ have.” She put her free arm around Yang, who returned it with her real arm. Her artificial arm clinked her mug against Blake’s. Ruby sat up and did the same, and Weiss already had hers there. “To us, Team RWBY!” Ruby said. “And all our boyfriends and girlfriends.”

“May they never meet,” Blake quipped, and everyone started laughing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I was going to write the ending as Weiss and Ruby sneaking out to their respective boyfriends, as talking about others got them a bit hot and bothered, while Yang and Blake take advantage of the other two being gone. But the fic was getting long, and given everything that happened in Season 7 and is beginning to happen in Season 8, I thought Team RWBY could use just a scene of them having fun and being friends--hence the chapter title. (Mild spoiler for S8: RT did a very nice job in Episode 3 giving us some character moments in a little down time.)
> 
> However, Team RWBY won't forget this conversation for awhile...especially Weiss. Or Yang.


	61. Stuck in the Middle With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oscar's been captured by Salem. (No, this is a totally new chapter.) She wants the password to the Relic of Knowledge, something that Oscar knows Salem must not have. He's prepared to die to keep the secret.
> 
> Salem, however, has other plans. Nefarious, sexy plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, spoiler warning. If you haven't seen Episode 4 of Season 8 of RWBY yet, you might want to skip this chapter (though honestly, probably everyone who's a fan knows what Salem's after, and I didn't give away everything). If you have or you don't care about spoilers, read on!
> 
> This chapter also references some earlier ones in "Love Hurts" (how is this dumb fic acquiring canon?), but you don't have to read those to get the funny in this one.

_Oscar.”_ The voice came from the end of a long tunnel as Oscar Pine struggled back to consciousness. Slowly his eyes came open and focused. He was staring down at his shoes, and a odd floor. Something was holding him up by the collar, like he’d been hung up in a closet. Whatever was holding him had some pretty bad breath, however. 

_Don’t panic,_ Ozpin’s voice said. _We’re going to be okay._

“Wha…” Oscar looked up and saw two red eyes looking back at him. “My long lost Ozma,” a voice spoke, dripping with sarcasm and bitterness. “Found at last.” Salem stepped out of the darkness. 

_Don’t panic?!_ Oscar thought frantically. _Easy for you to say!_

“So small, this new host of yours,” Salem mused as she walked forward. “It’s a wonder my Hound didn’t break you.” She stepped up to him and smiled, though there was little humor in it. “It’s been…how many years since we saw each other like this, face to face?” She inspected him like he was a slab of beef she might consider cooking. “And nothing to say?”

Oscar pitched his voice a little lower than usual. “I’m sorry that the reunion isn’t living up to your expectations.” _Maybe she’ll think I’m Ozpin…_

_No, she won’t,_ Ozpin warned, a second before Salem’s right hand shot out like a striking snake to grab him by the jaw. “You can pretend, boy,” the witch hissed, “but you’re not fully him. Not yet, at least.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you staring at my breasts?”

“Well…” Oscar tried to shrug. “They _are_ right there.”

She let him go as abruptly as she’d grabbed him, and stepped back with a sigh. “Well. Perhaps you and I can have a better working relationship…Oscar, was it?”

_Oscar,_ Ozpin’s voice said, _you’ve actually met Salem in the past. The night you and Ruby…er…did your thing at Amity Arena._

 _I don’t remember Salem being there,_ Oscar thought back. _You sure now is the right time for this?_

_Yes. I erased your memory. Salem erased Ruby’s. Apparently Salem doesn’t remember either. Perhaps we can…_

“We’ve actually met,” Oscar said before Ozpin could finish. “At Amity Arena.”

Salem raised an eyebrow. “I don’t recall that.”

“Yes. You, um…you erased our memories of it, I guess. It was the night that Ruby and I—“

Salem closed her eyes and nodded. “Oh, _that_ night. Yes, yes…I got very blackout drunk that night, so I don’t quite remember what happened. I think that was the night I created the Beringals…or was it the Hound?”

“Rrrf?” The Hound gave a muffled, surprised noise.

“It doesn’t matter.” Salem folded her hands in front of her. “There are… _several_ questions I want to ask of you. We’ll start with an easy one.” She walked away from him.

“What’s that?” Oscar asked.

“The password for the lamp.”

Oscar swallowed. Now he really had to take a chance. “The lamp’s all out of questions.”

Salem gave a nod, then brought up her hands. Purple and black light appeared, and multicolored streams shot out of the light to strike Oscar in the chest. It was like someone had taken an acetlyene torch to every nerve ending he had. His entire body stiffened in pain, like he was being electrocuted. Oscar could not help but scream at the top of his lungs. Finally, it stopped, leaving Oscar coughing and gagging.

Salem walked back to him. “Lies come out of you so easily!” She caressed his face again. “Like minded souls indeed.” Her hand dropped and her eyes widened a bit as she looked down. “Are you...erect?”

Oscar wanted to die for other reasons at the moment, but now he could add embarassment to the list. But it was true: he was as hard as high school algebra class. It was undoubtedly an after-effect of whatever magic Salem had used on him, but the front of his pants had a very noticeable bulge in them. It didn’t help matters when Salem put her hand right on it. “You are!” She looked up at him. “Do you enjoy pain, Oscar?”

“No!” Oscar insisted. “Just…a side effect…”

“Hmm. Interesting.” She motioned to the Hound. “Let him go.” Oscar was dropped unceremoniously to the floor. Salem crooked her finger, and the Grimm loped over to stand at her side. “You know, Oscar, I was going to have Hazel come in here and simply beat seven bales of shit out of you until either you or Ozpin gave up the Relic’s password—among other things. But now I have a better idea.” She walked to the entrance, and the Hound followed, leaving Oscar terrified behind her. The room was weirdly organic; the floor felt like skin, the walls looked to be lined with bone or teeth, and strange bloodlike things hung from the ceiling. The door in front of Salem simply dissolved, and Oscar felt his insides turn to ice as he saw a very angry Hazel Rainart standing there. Salem, however, simply whispered into Hazel’s ear. His eyes got wide too. “You’re going to do _what?”_ he thundered. “I won’t—“

“You will,” Salem said calmly, “or we’re going to find out how well you can fly.” She stroked the black, roiling skin of the Hound. “My pet will take you up to the top of the whale. Would you like that, Hazel?”

“No,” Hazel grunted.

“Good. Now get lost.” There was steel in Salem’s voice, and Hazel reluctantly obeyed. “You too, Hound.”

“Rawww…” The Hound slowly and just as reluctantly moved off behind Hazel, and the door reformed itself. 

_All right,_ Ozpin warned Oscar, _this is going to get…a little strange._

 _She’s not going to do what I think she’s going to do, is she?_ Oscar thought with a very sinking feeling.

_Yes. But we can use this to our advantage._

 _But Ruby—_ Oscar stopped as Salem returned to stand in front of him. Slowly, she undid the clasp at her throat, then peeled the robe down over her shoulders to her waist. She was not wearing a bra, but her breasts didn’t seem to need one; they defied gravity all on their own. Salem smiled at him. “Ruby Rose is your lover, is she not?”

“Uh, yeah,” Oscar admitted.

“Ah. So you’ve only been with her? She’s eighteen?”

“Um, yeah,” Oscar repeated.

“Then you’ve never had a… _real_ woman. An experienced one, not a rank amateur.”

“Ruby’s the only one.” 

“Oh, young love.” Salem snorted. “Waste of time. I misspent a lot of my youth worrying about such crap.” She knelt next to him, grabbed a hand, and put it to her left breast. “How does that feel?”

Oscar was surprised to find that Salem’s skin was actually rather warm. He’d expected it to be cold as a corpse. Her breast was a good size larger than Ruby’s, but just as soft. “Um…good?”

“Glad to hear it.” She straightened up, and just as slowly as she had before, pulled down the rest of her dress, sensuously, like a snake shedding its skin. Then she stepped out of it. “Here I am, Oscar. Completely naked. How do I compare to Ruby?”

“Well, you’re…taller?” Oscar couldn’t help but let his eyes rove all over her, which was exactly what she wanted.

“Is that all?” Salem reached up and undid her braids, letting her white hair flow freely over her shoulders, to the small of her back. It changed her appearance, making her look less fearsome. “My breasts…are they bigger?”

“Um, yes.”

She rotated to show him her bottom. “And my backside…is it tighter?”

Oscar was too entranced by the booty to lie. Plus he didn’t want to get electrocuted again. “Well, no. Ruby’s is tighter. But she’s younger!” He closed his eyes and winced, waiting for Salem to zap him again. That had been the wrong thing to say; even Oscar knew that you never commented on a woman’s age.

“I see. Well, that is true.” Oscar opened his eyes, only to be confronted with Salem’s groin less than two feet away from him. “And what about down here?” she purred.

“Uh…she shaves down there, too.”

Salem pursed her lips. “Hmm. Didn’t know that was still a thing.” Once more, she knelt in front of him. Her hair fell over her face in a very alluring fashion. “By the time I’m done with you, Oscar, you won’t even _remember_ Ruby Rose.” She unzipped his pants. “And you’ll give me the password to the lamp.”

Ozpin had been quiet, thankfully, but now he spoke up. _All right, Oscar,_ he advised, _you’re about to have sex with Salem._

 _No shit!_ Oscar thought back, as the witch eased off his pants. His erection stood straight up under his shorts, and it hadn’t needed magic this time.

_You’re going to be forced to cheat on Ruby, I’m afraid, but you don’t really have much choice. But we must make Salem work for the password. The longer we delay, the more time we gain for a rescue attempt._

 _Oh gods, there go my shorts._ Salem had freed his member, and ran her fingers over it, analyzing it like it was some sort of new creature for her to play with. Which was not far from the truth. “Hmm,” she said. “Distressingly average. Then again, I suppose this has no problem filling up Ruby Rose.” She gave it an experimental rub. “You’ll find that I am…a little more roomy.” Salem paused. realizing what that implied. “But still pretty damn tight. Let’s make that very clear.” She pulled off his boots and socks, the finished with his pants. She stopped again. “Just one moment. What is the legal age in Atlas?”

“Uh, sixteen.” That was how old Oscar was, anyway.

Salem’s eyes brightened. “I’m old enough!”

_I could use some pointers, really quick!_ Oscar begged Ozpin.

_Very well. I remember what Ozma used to do. She’s quite sensual, Oscar, but in the end, she’s not much different than Ruby._

_Okay…Ruby…I can de—OH GODS THAT’S HER LIPS SHE’S GOT HER LIPS AROUND ME AND HOLY CATS THAT’S HER TONGUE_

_Easy, Oscar,_ Ozpin advised. _Remember the training you’ve been doing with Ruby. Remember to think of math problems and such so you don’t--_

_QKAFTYAVRAKETACAJAWIYAIRIUWLAURYA78FOAFA_

_Oh dear._

Salem’s cheeks bulged in surprise as Oscar ejaculated right down her throat. She took her lips away and spit, hacking. “Dammit, you little shit! How about some warning next time!”

“Sorry,” Oscar groaned, covering himself out of embarrassment. “I, uh…that’s kind of my weakness. Ruby and I have been working on that—“

“I don’t doubt it! Thirty seconds? Really?” Salem spit some more, then conjured a bottle of water to wash out her mouth. 

_Compliment her!_ Ozpin ordered. Oscar forced a smile. “You’re just that good.”

Salem spit again, then smiled. “True.” She straddled him, and pulled off his filthy jacket, tossing that aside, them unbuttoned his shirt, running her fingernails over his chest. “Not bad. Not Ozma, but…not bad.” She lightly brushed his nipples, then kissed him. Her mouth was pretty warm, too. “So…shall we make it easy? The password?”

_Don’t tell her,_ Ozpin warned. _Make her work for it._ Oscar was sure something bad was going to happen if he did; it was easy for Ozpin to give orders, but he could always reincarnate. 

“Still reluctant?” Salem asked. “Well, no matter. I’m not quite finished in any case.” She pointed a finger at his flaccid penis, and a bit of purple lightning shot out from it. To Oscar’s stunned surprise, there was no pain (thankfully), but he was suddenly hard again. _You were right,_ he told Ozpin, _she_ does _know lust magic._ She began kissing her way down his chest. _Hey, what if I used that spell I used on Ruby that time, when she went nuts and started using the Long Memory as a mastubatory aid?_

 _I thought we agreed to never bring that up._ Ozpin sighed. _That would be an exceptionally bad idea. One, I don’t think it would work on Salem. Two, you would die. And while that would indeed keep Salem from learning the Relic’s password, I’d really prefer not to reincarnate if I don’t have to._

“Are you ready for heaven, boy?” Salem whispered, in a voice that dripped with sex. She didn’t wait for an answer. With agonizing slowness, she sank down on top of him. “Mmmm,” she sighed. “Not bad at all.”

Oscar could say the same thing. _Please forgive me, Ruby,_ he thought, as Salem began to ride him.

_Now listen closely, Oscar. Salem enjoys the following…_ The former headmaster of Beacon began to list off the things Salem liked in bed. To Oscar’s pleasant surprise, Salem’s likes were fairly vanilla; there were no major household appliances or anything nauseating involved. 

First, Oscar drew Salem down towards him; she didn’t resist. He began licking at her grayish nipples, and Salem smiled. “Oh, that’s very nice.” Then Oscar found a rhythm of fast and slow. He wasn’t sure how _he_ was going to last, but Salem was loving it. She began to moan very loudly. Then he began to stroke her inner thighs with her hands. Her breath quickened and she began to go faster. And finally, though it mortified him, Oscar grabbed the witch’s rear end and began to knead it like he was making a cake. “Ahhh,” Salem mewled, “you…you naughty boy…you’re going to…” Then she threw her head back and screamed in passion. The whale gave a rumbling noise, and two decks below, Neo Politan cursed in sign as her breakfast spilled all over her white pants. Hazel grunted in anger and caught the dice before they fell off the table, before handing them back to the Hound. Cinder put her hands over her ears, wondering if she was ever going to get a chance to make nefarious plans without interruption.

Salem lay against him, sated. “That was…quite good for an amateur. It’s no wonder that Ruby Rose is always so annoyingly cheerful, if she has you to come home to.”

“Actually, we just sort of started—“

“Shhh.” The Queen of the Grimm put a pale finger on his lips. “Now then, Oscar…the password.”

He took a breath. “No.”

She slammed herself back down on him. “Password!”

“No!”

Salem began bouncing up and down. “Password! Password!”

“No! No!” _Ozpin, help!_ Oscar begged. _I’m not going to last!_

_Well, I doubt you’re going to get her pregnant. I suspect Salem’s childbearing years are past her—_

_That’s not it! Oh boy…here we go…can’t…hold back…breath…minty fresh…_

_Make up something!_ Ozpin exclaimed.

Oscar grabbed Salem’s hips and gave one last thrust. _“Password!”_ she yelled.

_“Passworrrrrrrd!”_ Oscar yelled back, and emptied himself into her. He collapsed, covered in sweat.

Salem looked down at him. “Wait. The password to the Relic of Knowledge is…’password’?” Oscar, trying to get his breath back, nodded. “That’s stupid!”

“You would have…never thought of it…” he puffed out.

“Hmm. That is true.” Ozpin suddenly whispered something in Oscar’s mind, and though he could barely muster the energy and wondered if he was going to die—though if he did, Oscar could think of worse ways—he quickly put his fingers in Salem’s armpits, and began to tickle her. Salem’s arms spasmed to her sides, and she burst out in peals of laughter. She jumped away from him, giggling like a schoolgirl. “You cheeky little bastard!” she snorted. “Ozpin’s giving you advice, isn’t he?”

Oscar figured there was no point in denying it. “Yes.”

“Well. It was good advice, anyway.” Salem got dressed. “I’ll send some dinner up. And if the password doesn’t work, I’ll have Hazel beat you until you can’t eat solid food for a month.” With that, Salem left.

_Great. Now Hazel’s going to kill me,_ Oscar thought, drawing his knees up to his chest.

_Don’t be so sure,_ Ozpin reassured him. _Don’t be so sure._

Salem stared at the Relic. “Password, dammit!” Nothing happened. Nothing had happened the last twenty times she’d said it.

Hazel crossed his huge arms over his barrel of a chest. “He lied, didn’t he?”

The witch leaned on her hand. “I should’ve known it wouldn’t be _that_ easy.”

“Good,” Hazel rumbled, cracking his knuckles. “I’ll beat it out of him.” 

Salem sat up in her throne, smiled, and stood. “No. I have a better idea.”

“You’re kidding. Again?” Hazel covered his eyes.

“Oh, shut up. My way is better and you know it.” Salem shoved him aside and headed back towards Oscar’s prison cell, whistling happily as she did so.

Hazel leaned against the throne. “I wonder if Ironwood’s hiring,” he said.


	62. Good Vibrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang Xiao Long goes to Pietro Polendina for some...alterations to her artificial arm. Of course, Pietro's going to want to know why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can guess from the title and the description what's going to happen in *this* chapter. 
> 
> The funny part is, I sort of lost control of the story halfway through, and Pietro Polendina sort of took it over. So while this is another entry in the "Lusty Adventures of Blake and Yang," it's also kind of a serious chapter too. Pietro's got some words of advice for Yang, words that I hadn't thought of writing before I started.

Pietro Polendina hummed tunelessly as he tinkered. There was nothing pressing to do at the moment: he’d upgraded Team RWBY and Team JNR’s weaponry, ran a diagnostic on Penny before she headed out for her nightly patrol, and there wasn’t anyone with artificial limbs who needed some help. So, with a free night, Pietro decided he was going to get his hands dirty. He was looking forward to firing up his latest invention, what he called a “swoop”: essentially a jet engine attached to a seat and handlebars. It would be something Huntsmen and Huntresses could use to get around Mantle quickly. 

The bell rang as the front door opened. Pietro pulled himself back into his spider-chair—he wasn’t sure what else to call it—and walked the chair back into the main room of his combination shop/treatment center. “Well, hello there, Yang Xiao Long,” he greeted, with a big smile. “What brings you here tonight?”

Pietro liked Yang, and not because she was using one of his inventions—her artificial arm. The young Huntress liked to smile and laugh, and Pietro had learned long ago that he needed that in his life. Tonight, however, she seemed nervous and unsure of herself, which was a little strange. She looked back at the door. “Doctor Polendina—“

“Pietro, Yang. Just call me Pietro.”

“Pietro.” He motioned her to a chair, and Yang sat, legs pressed together, seemingly tucking herself inside the jacket she wore. “Um, I don’t mean to be a jerk or anything, but…you’re a real doctor, right? I mean, like a doctor-doctor?”

Pietro shrugged. “Yang, I’m not a surgeon, and I can’t show you how to treat a bunion. My doctorate is in cybernetics and artificial intelligence.”

“Oh…okay. That makes sense.” Yang sighed, and started to get up. “Thanks anyway.”

“But,” Pietro said, stopping her, “that doesn’t mean I can’t listen, as a friend.”

Yang sat back down. “Well…it’s kind of personal.” She blushed and looked away. “Like… _really_ personal.”

Pietro nodded. “Yang, when I’m fitting people with artificial limbs, or helping actual doctors implant artificial organs, I often have to see private areas, male and female, human and Faunus. And while Penny is like a daughter to me, occasionally she must also be naked in my presence when I have to do repairs. While she may not be ‘real’ in that she has no, shall we say, certain parts of anatomy that you do, she is still without clothing.” He smiled benevolently. “Yang, when I’m doing my job, you’re just pieces of meat.” Yang gave him a dirty look, and he laughed. “All right, all right… _very attractive_ pieces of meat.” He folded his arms over his copious stomach; Pietro hadn’t missed many meals. “Now what can I do for you, Yang?”

“Well…okay.” Yang took her jacket off. “I don’t have to strip or anything—it’s just my arm.”

Pietro laughed. “Yang, why didn’t you say so? I designed that arm—though I do like what you’ve done with it with the paint.” At first he _hadn’t_ liked it, but it had grown on him. “Nothing embarrassing about that at all.” 

“Er…” Yang once more couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “I was wondering…could you… _add_ something to the arm?”

“As long as it’s not a rocket launcher or anything, I suppose so. What did you have in mind?” Yang mumbled something, and Pietro cupped a hand to his ear. “I’m sorry, Yang, you’ll have to speak up. My hearing isn’t what it used to be.”

“A vibration function,” Yang said, more loudly.

Pietro stroked his beard in thought. “I suppose I could—Penny’s hands have something like that.”

“Not that powerful!” Yang said quickly. “I don’t want to want to be able to carve my way through a door or something.” Though she privately admitted to herself that might be kind of cool. “I just need it to…vibrate. Gently.” Yang bit her lip. “For…um…relaxation purposes.”

A graying eyebrow rose. “Relaxation purposes?” Pietro asked.

“Yeah. You know, like a…back massager.”

Pietro sighed, and took off his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose. “Yang, I know a little about your father, and I’m pretty sure he’d be disappointed in you lying to an old man.”

Yang sighed too. “That’s why I said it was pretty personal.” She steeled herself and forced herself to look at the old inventor. And then she couldn’t say it out loud. “I…I guess you’ve guessed what I want it for.”

“And I’m not sure I want to help you,” Pietro answered, a little testily. “Your arm is to help you live a full life, and as a weapon. It’s not a…a sex toy!”

“I know.” Yang got up. “I had to ask. It’s just that…I’m worried.”

“About what?”

Yang began to pace. “I’m in a relationship.” She hesitated. “With my friend Blake.”

Pietro chuckled. “I’m old, not blind, Yang.”

“Well…we’ve been together for a few weeks now. And we’ve been friends for a long time before that….kinda. I mean, she was on Menagerie for a couple of months while I recuperated…” Yang stopped herself; there was no reason to air her dirty relationship laundry in front of Pietro. “I’m just worried she might be…bored with me. I’m not going to get into the gross details or anything, but you know how couples get.” Yang stopped, and bit her lip again—but it wasn’t in embarrassment, it was to stop the tears. “I don’t want her to leave. I’m scared she will. I’ve…I’ve had a lot of people leave in my life.”

It was quiet in the room for a few minutes. Pietro walked his chair over to Yang, and took her hands in his. “Yang, I wasn’t always some crazy old coot in a walking chair who makes artificial limbs and robots in his spare time. I was married. No kids, unfortunately—the gods know we wanted some, but never quite could.” He turned wistful. “Married a long time. And I can tell you, love—true love—goes way beyond gadgets and geegaws and games. It’s bills and hard times and the world falling down around you, and yet you stay together because you’re a _part_ of each other and can’t bear facing the world without the other.” 

He smiled up at her. “Yang, you and Blake are young. Now I know you’re in a tough job with a high attrition rate. Oh boy, do I.” A bit of pain in the old man’s eyes told Yang he was remembering watching Penny being torn apart at Beacon. “But you’ve already been through a lot together. And you’ll go through even more. You’ll argue and get angry and maybe even leave each other’s side for awhile. And maybe you’ll realize you’re better friends than lovers. But I think you will _always_ be friends, physical relationship or not. And you’ll find out that love isn’t being sexy or being interesting—it’s just being with each other and appreciating the other for who they are, and the big hole in your life when they're gone.”

Yang gave that some thought. “That’s good advice.”

“Well, we old folks are good for something." He patted her hands in a fatherly way. "Now then, can I take a look at the arm?”

“Uh, sure.” Yang reached up and disconnected it. Wisps of phantom pain curled up her arm; she’d gotten so used to the artificial limb now that it actually hurt to take it off. The pain passed quickly enough, and she handed it to Pietro. He took it with him to his workbench and began tinkering with it. “Now then…what I’ll do is add just a _slight_ vibration function to it, like when your Scroll buzzes. It still should provide some…relaxation.” He grinned up at her, a devilish look in his eyes.

It took a second for Yang to realize what he was doing. “Wait, you’re going to put it in _anyway?_ ”

“Sure. Because you know what _also_ helps relationships last?” Yang shook her head, and Pietro laughed. “Fun. Lots of fun.” He pointed to the arm. “This isn’t going to make you more interesting, Yang, but it will allow you, and Blake if she wants, to have a little fun. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” He spread his hands. “And it actually _will_ act as a muscle relaxer.”

Yang grinned too. “I didn’t think you were going to do it. And that was okay,” Yang reassured him. “I just thought maybe…you disapproved of it.”

Pietro shook his head and got out his tools. “You kids. You always think we old folks were born old and were never like you. I bet Maria’s got some stories that will make your hair stand on end.” He waved her back to her seat. “Now this won’t take too long.”

Yang shut the dorm room door behind her. “Hey, Blake.”

Blake was sitting at the desk computer. “Hi, Yang.” She was typing away at a report, wearing her yukata. “You’re kind of late. It’s past ten.”

“Yeah…had to take care of some stuff in Mantle. I stopped by Pietro’s shop.” Yang hung up her jacket and pulled off her boots. “Where’s Weiss and Ruby?”

“Ruby is helping Penny with her patrol tonight. Weiss…” Blake looked sidelong at Yang. “I think Weiss is trying out Jaune’s Aura power. If you know what I mean, and I think you do.”

“Heh.” Yang snickered. Ever since the other night, when they’d talked about guys they were interested in and the potential for their Semblances in bed, the rest of Team RWBY could see the gears turning in Weiss’ mind. “You know, speaking of that…” Yang quickly changed into her T-shirt and shorts.

“Speaking of what?” Blake went back to her report.

“Pietro did some, um, adjustments to my arm. It now has a vibration function.”

Blake rolled her eyes. “Yang, that joke’s gotten very stale. It does not.”

“Oh, really?” Yang put the metal hand against Blake’s back and curled in the pinky finger. The vibrator buzzers activated, transmitting a pleasant hum and tremor to Blake’s spine. Blake gave a sharp _“Yeep!”_ and whirled around. Yang waggled her eyebrows suggestively and continued to hold up her hand. Tentatively, Blake touched the hand and jerked back. “It really _does_ have a vibration function!” she exclaimed.

“Uh huh. Told you I had Pietro adjust it.”

“What excuse did you give him?” Blake asked.

“He just did it.” Yang didn’t feel like going into the whole conversation. Not yet. “Want to try it out?”

“Sure.” Blake turned around and Yang put her hand back. It didn’t take long before Blake was purring under the vibrations. Yang gently moved it around over the Faunus’ shoulders, pulling back the yukata a little. “Mmm…that’s really good, Yang. That feels great.”

“And it’ll feel great somewhere else.” Yang bent over and kissed Blake’s cheek. 

Blake smiled wryly. “I’ll bet you didn’t tell Pietro that.” Yang didn’t answer. Blake turned away, saved the report, and then stood. She kissed Yang on the lips. “Well, I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t interested.”

“Well, then go lay down and let me do alllll the work.” Blake did as instructed. Yang lay down next to her and pulled down her lover’s underwear. Blake stuck a pillow under her head so she could watch. She trembled a little, with equal parts anticipation and nervousness. “Yang, this isn’t going to hurt, is it?”

Yang stopped. “You never had any vibrators or anything?”

Blake gave her that look again, one that made Yang feel like she was a proper moron. “No, Yang. I went straight from fingers to Adam’s penis, and never really had a chance to use a vibrator.”

“What about at Beacon?”

“What was I supposed to do—borrow yours?”

“Good point.” Yang couldn’t resist smiling—not that she had needed to do any “self-care” with Blake around, but in case she did, her new magic fingers might feel pretty good on herself, too. _Later,_ Yang told herself. “Ready?”

“Lock the door.”

“Gotcha.” Yang quickly did so, then ran back and flopped on the bed. “Okay, here we go.” She activated the buzzers again, and touched Blake just below the navel, just above her thin strip of black curls. Then she moved them down. Blake shifted, a little uncomfortably. “Just…inside, Yang. I don’t think I’m ready for it there.”

“Sure.” Yang skipped over the little nub of flesh at the top of Blake’s folds, and carefully put them against her lover’s opening. Blake spasmed and involuntarily brought her legs together. “Sorry,” she whispered, and opened her thighs a little, enough for Yang to put her fingers in. 

Blake’s eyes widened. “Whoaaaa….” They got bigger. “That’s…that’s…holy crap...” Yang grinned at her, and curled her fingers upwards, inside. Blake’s rear came off the bed and she let out a yowl, just as a cat would. She clapped both hands over her mouth and turned bright red. Yang broke into giggles and moved her fingers out, then ran them along the sides. Blake was looking down at herself with an expression of utter horror and fascination. “Yang…Yang…I don’t know what’s happening…”

“Shh.” Yang kissed Blake’s forehead. “Don’t hold back, Blakey.”

“But…what if…Ruby…and Penny…outside...and…and…oh…wow…I’m…it’s…” Her mouth dropped open, and Blake gasped for air. “Yang…I think…I think…here…I…” Then her eyes rolled back, her back arched, and Blake let out a scream of pure pleasure. One hand bunched into the covers of her bunk; the other smacked Yang right in the face. Blake collapsed onto the bed, shaking like a leaf in an Atlas blizzard. “Oh gods, Yang…oh gods…” she panted.

Yang dried her fingers off on the covers, then massaged her nose, thanking the Good Brother for the gift of Aura. “I think that was the fastest I’ve ever gotten you off. Not to mention the most intense.”

Blake shivered, and hugged herself. She felt she’d been struck by lightning—in a good way, if there was a good way to get hit by lightning. (She made a mental note to ask Nora.) “It _is_ the fastest. Wow.”

Yang switched off the vibration function, and just lightly touched the swollen nub. Blake jumped. “Now what if I touched _this_ with it on—“

“Don’t!” Blake warned. “I really don’t want to die tonight, Yang. I don’t think I can handle that.” She reached out and stroked Yang’s hair. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Fair.” Yang reached up and disconnected her arm, then handed it to Blake. “Okay, my turn.” She winked at the Faunus. “And I _do_ think I can handle it.” She booped Blake on the nose. “Love you, Blakey.”

Blake laughed and booped her back. “Love you too, crazy.” She gave a start as she switched the buzzers back on. “Hope we don’t break your arm.” She helped Yang pull down the latter’s shorts. “One thing’s for sure, Yang. Life with you will _never_ be boring.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh. I do love writing these two. Given that Pietro regards Penny as his daughter and she calls him Dad, my headcanon is that Pietro was married at some point, but he and his partner never could have children. So he built one.
> 
> And yes, there's some pretty broad and pretty specific hints dropped on the next two chapters--Weiss and Jaune will try out some "Aura enhancement," while maybe Maria has a story about the Grim Reaper in her prime. After all, Maria was pretty hot when she was a young Huntress; what kind of tales *does* she have? Doesn't mean I'm not taking suggestions still, so keep those rolling along. The next chapter should be in four days or so, as I desperately try to get on some sort of schedule.


	63. Real Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penny Poledina has become the Winter Maiden. But what if the Maiden powers did more than just give Penny incredible powers? What if it made her a real, flesh and blood girl?
> 
> Whitley's about to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ujjhh asked if I was going to do another Penny/Whitley chapter, which I was planning--actually, I'd been planning it since the end of Season 7 last year. I'd never really gotten to it, so I decided to give that a whirl tonight. 
> 
> The strange part is, in theory, this could've been canon. In the original "Adventures of Pinocchio," the Blue Fairy makes Pinocchio a real boy. Fria is intended to be the RWBY version of the Blue Fairy, while Penny is, of course, a female version of Pinocchio. So Fria *could* have made Penny very much real. That wasn't the direction RT went with it, of course, but I'd wondered about that since the end of last season. And in the very loose canon of "Love Hurts," Whitley Schnee and Penny are secret boyfriend-girlfriend, so what would that mean for their relationship? (Reading that chapter of this fic isn't necessary to enjoy this one, of course.)

The Winter Maiden was dead.

It was an extremely depressing way to begin a chapter, but it was true. Fria, the Winter Maiden, had died, but she had not died in vain. Cinder Fall had not been able to wrest the Maiden powers from her, nor had she been able to kill Winter Schnee or Penny Polendina in the process. It was supposed to be Winter that would inherit the Winter Maiden powers—appropriately enough—but to the surprise of everyone, not the least Cinder _or_ Winter, Fria had passed her powers on to Penny. It had been a last act of a life of service to Atlas, and Fria’s last victory.

Now Penny looked at her hands. She didn’t understand. How was it that _she_ was the Winter Maiden? That wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. She was a robot, an android, with an artificial soul…wasn’t she? She felt cold, although her internal temperature sensor was functioning all right. At least, she thought it was; she was having trouble accessing it.

“Are you okay?” Ruby’s voice was quiet. Penny looked at her friend. Despite her powers, as both Maiden and warbot, Penny knew she might still have fallen to Cinder were it not for her friend’s silver eyes. Those eyes were filled with concern now, and Ruby put a friendly arm around Penny’s shoulders. On the other side, Weiss patted Penny’s knee with affection. She was surrounded by friends—even if all of them were now on the run, with a mad General Ironwood on one side, and Salem’s monstrous legions on the other.

“I think so,” Penny replied. “I just feel…very strange.” She looked at her hands again.

“You’re a Maiden now,” Weiss told her. “Probably everything is going to be strange.” 

“I just…don’t understand how…” Penny shook her head. “I’m not a real girl. I’m just a robot.”

Ruby hugged her. “Penny, you’re more real than most people.”

Penny smiled, despite everything that was happening. “Thank you, Ruby.” She put a hand on Weiss’. “And thank you, Weiss.” 

Ruby felt something poking her in the chest. As she withdrew from the hug, she looked down, and turned a little red with embarassment. It was a little cold in the Bullhead airship, and it was pretty obvious that Penny wasn’t wearing a bra. She blinked. Had Penny _ever_ worn a bra? Did she need one? Her skin was a silicon polymer; her muscles were myomer bundles. It wasn’t like Penny’s breasts would ever sag. Still, Ruby didn’t want to point it out to her.

Yang, however, had much less tact. Sitting across from Penny next to Blake, she suddenly stood, fought the motion of the Bullhead, and walked over to the android. “Penny?” She looked up at Yang. “Uh, hold still a minute.” She reached out and pressed gently on Penny’s cheeks. “Do you have some way of simulating a blush?”

“Not particularly,” Penny replied. “My cheeks have something of a permanent blush, along with my freckles, as I am to simulate a girl of pale complexion. Why?”

“Because you look like you’re blushing. Like it’s kind of cold in here and your face is warming itself. And, well…” Yang pointed at Penny’s chest. “You’re…kinda nipping out.”

“Yang!” Weiss exclaimed. 

“Well, she _is!”_

Penny stared down at her chest. “That’s…that’s quite impossible. I do not have secondary sexual characteristics. I have no nipples.” She cocked her head to one side. “That’s very strange.” Before anyone could stop her, Penny pulled off one of her dress straps and opened her blouse, looking down. Her face turned a lot more red, and she looked up in shock. “I…I have nipples.” She turned to Ruby and opened her dress even further. “Look, Ruby!”

It had been a weird day, but the last thing Ruby ever thought was that she’d be looking at the breasts of her friend the robot. And yet that’s what she was doing. “Uh…you sure do.”

“Excuse me!” Penny jumped up from her seat, and went into the Bullhead’s tiny bathroom, which was little more than a very small closet. The rest of Team RWBY heard buttons being popped, a zipper being undone, and the ruffle of a dress falling to the deck. “Holy shit!” The four Huntresses looked at each other in shock; they had _never_ heard Penny curse, and didn’t think she was able to even do so. There was now the sound of a dress being pulled up, zippers being rezipped, and buttons being snapped back on. Penny came out of the toilet with a stunned look on her face. “I’m…a…a real girl.”

“Of course you’re a real—“ Ruby started, but Penny rushed to her, grabbing her hands. “No, you don’t understand!” Penny shouted. “I don’t have nipples! I don’t have a…er…you know, down there!”

“A vagina?” This from Maria Calavera, flying the Bullhead, who had even less tact than Yang.

“Yes! I mean, no!” Penny collapsed onto the seat. “But now I do! I have those things.”

Yang nodded. “Yeah. And real skin, too.”

Ruby reached out and touched Penny’s cheek as well. Android Penny’s skin looked real, but on close inspection did not have as much give as actual skin, and pressing down on it, one could feel both the strands of plastic muscle and the titanium alloy bone beneath. Not anymore. Penny’s skin felt the same as her own, Ruby realized. “You’re right,” she breathed in shock. “You’re a real girl, Penny.”

“The Maiden powers,” Blake observed. “When Fria gave you the Winter Maiden powers, it also turned you from an android to a human, Penny.”

“My word.” Penny reached behind her, and felt into her backpack. The blades were still there, but they were no longer stored in her back. Somehow, the Maiden powers had moved them. She could not access her self-diagnostic, though she could switch her eyes through various spectrums. “Ruby, my eyes. What do they look like?” She focused them.

“They’re green…and they still do that thing when you’re looking at something. Like a camera lens.”

“Then I am not _fully_ human,” Penny said.

“Maybe more like a cyborg?” Yang said, flexing her artificial arm. 

Penny suddenly stood. “I have to go,” she announced. “I have to go back to Atlas.”

“No way,” Ruby said, standing as well. “It’s not safe you back there, Penny! And now that you’re a real girl—“

“I _have_ to!” Penny gently but firmly shoved Ruby aside, went to the passenger door, and opened it. A blast of arctic wind blew into the Bullhead, and before anyone could do anything, Penny’s boot jets fired and she was gone.

Whitley Schnee lay on his bed at stately Schnee Manor, staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do now. 

He was alone. His sisters Weiss and Winter were gone—Weiss was a fugitive (not that _that_ was a surprise), and Winter was in the hospital, badly injured and lucky to be alive. His father Jacques was in prison, for manipulating an election and allowing Arthur Watts to access the Atlesian computer network. And his mother Willow was probably wrapping herself around a wine bottle somewhere. He’d already gotten a call from Jacques’ lawyers, who wanted Whitley’s permission to begin working on his father’s case; as heir to the Schnee fortune, it was Whitley’s job to do so. Except Whitley wasn’t sure he even _wanted_ his father out of prison. Jacques had never been much of a father. Willow, to be honest, wasn’t much of a mother. Whitley was fairly sure his sisters hated him. He’d never really been allowed to have a lot of friends, except for Klein, and Klein was long since fired.

Except for Penny Polendina.

It was an odd sort of friendship—the android faux-daughter of Mantle’s greatest inventor, and the son of Atlas’ most powerful businessman. Maybe because they both felt loneliness, it had caused them to draw together. They’d secretly begun hanging out, then actually going on dates, with Whitley in a disguise, or Penny sneaking into his room after hours to eat popcorn (well, Whitley did) and watch cheesy movies, the worst they could find (la la la). On an impulse, they’d started making out one night, which was weird, to say the least—but they both enjoyed it. On the night Jacques had been arrested, that make out session had turned into something more. Unfortunately, that had also been the night Whitley had found out Penny couldn’t actually have sex; naturally, as a robot designed to defend Mantle from Grimm, Pietro would’ve hardly considered adding that function.

Whitley rolled over, wishing Penny was there, when suddenly, she was. She announced her arrival by kicking in Whitley’s oak bedroom door, having already flown in through an open window. “Salutations! Ow,” she winced, massaging her leg. She was going to have to get used to the fact that she no longer had titanium bones, though she still seemed very tough.

“Penny?” Whitley exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you!” She closed the door and locked it. “I had to!”

“One of General Ironwood’s men was here earlier. He told me Winter had been hurt, fighting some very powerful woman…and that you had flown away—I think you might be in trouble--“

“I’m back now.” She ran over and jumped on the bed next to him, grabbing Whitley’s hands. “Whitley, something incredible has happened!” She blinked, and green flames haloed around her eyes. He nearly jumped backwards off the bed, but she held on. “No, it’s okay! I won’t hurt you! I’m the Winter Maiden now!”

“Winter what?” Whitley had never really paid much attention to legends. “Does this have something to do with the battle my sister Winter got hurt in?”

“Mm-hm!” Penny nodded. “But that’s not all!” Her grin was ear to ear. “I’m a real girl now, Whitley! I’m real!”

Whitley was still a few steps back. “I don’t—“

Deciding that deeds were better than words, Penny grabbed Whitley’s right hand and put it to the corresponding breast. He froze, as most teenaged boys would do when that sort of thing happens, but then his eyes got wide. “Penny…is that…your heart?”

“I believe so,” Penny replied happily. 

“But you don’t have a heart.” He shook his head. “I mean, you _do,_ but it’s a powerpack, using fuel cell technology and…” He began to smile. “Unless you got turned into a real girl.”

“I’m a real girl,” Penny laughed. “I’m a real girl!”

“Well, that’s wonderful!” He went to give her a hug, but Penny seized him and kissed him instead. Penny’s lips had always been warm and moist, but it was artificial, a system of water heated by her powerpack. This wasn’t. These were real lips, and real teeth, and a real tongue. Whitley pulled back. “Penny…”

She began to unbutton his shirt. “Whitley…I’ve always wanted to do this with you since that one night, and now we can…”

“Wait, wait. You become a real girl and your first thought is that…” Whitley put up his hands. “Penny, you can’t mean it.”

“I do. Please, Whitley…please.” She kissed him again, and he tasted the saltiness of her tears. Penny could cry before, but the tears were once more artificial; these were not. “I want to be real for you.”

He looked away from her. “I’m not good enough for you.”

Penny smoothed back his white hair. “Let me decide that, Whitley.” And she eschewed unbuttoning the rest of his shirt for simply ripping it off. 

It would have shocked Weiss to hear it, but Whitley considered himself a gentleman, and in between her bouts of drunkenness, Willow Schnee had raised her son as such. Still, it would’ve taken a saint to refuse Penny’s advances, and Whitley was not one of those. Heart pounding, he helped her first take down the dress straps, then take off her blouse. He’d seen her breasts before, but they had been featureless, like a doll’s. He swallowed at the sight of her pink nipples, hardened either by cold or desire. “Penny…”

Penny blushed. “See?” She gently took his hands. “Please touch them.” Whitley did. They were warm, and Penny gasped at the feel of his hands on her. She began to squirm, then quickly got off the bed and got her dress off, driven by an emotion she’d never felt before, but one she had to answer. She did wear underwear, but she took those off too. Whitley’s eyes rounded: apparently the Winter Maiden powers had decided that Penny was a natural redhead. 

“Is it…okay?” Penny asked in a whisper, looking down at herself. “Does it look all right?”

“I don’t know,” Whitley admitted. “I’ve never seen one before.”

“I hadn’t really either,” Penny said.

“Hold on.” Whitley got up as well, and quickly got off his slacks and boxers. He was hard; Penny had seen Whitley like this before, but somehow it was different now. They stared at each other; the ribbon in Penny’s hair, her stockings, and Whitley’s dress socks were the only clothes between them. They looked at each other and started to laugh. He stepped forward into her embrace, and kissed her. “You sure you want to do this?” Whitley asked.

“More than anything in the world,” Penny answered. “But we probably shouldn’t take too long. Salem is sort of here, and she could attack, and Atlas and my friends will need me…”

Whitley supposed that he should be greatly concerned about whoever this Salem was and that Atlas was shortly going to be under attack, but he was holding a naked girl in his arms, his only real friend, and suddenly all else seemed very secondary. “I don’t know how long I’m going to last,” he said. Kissing her, he drew Penny down to the bed. They lay side by side, caressing each other, and then Penny rolled him over onto his back. “You’d better let me,” she insisted. “I don’t know how strong I still am.” Whitley nodded, and Penny felt herself swallow nervously—another new and strange sensation—as she positioned herself over him. They looked at each other, both gave the other mental permission, and slowly, Penny slid downwards. She expected pain—after all, she was very much a virgin—but there was none; apparently, being turned into a real girl had _some_ limits. Whitley gave a bit of a groan, and he was completely into her. “O-Okay?” he struggled out; it was certainly okay for him.

Penny had to think about it. It was a very odd sensation, but a very pleasant one. “I think so,” she replied. She tried moving up and down a little, and it felt even better. Whitley tried an experimental thrust, and Penny let out a “Hm!” of surprise. Then she smiled. It was very good. She leaned over, to allow his hands access to her breasts—that was extremely stimulating, she noted—and they fell into a rhythm. Whitley began to think of anything but what he was doing, afraid he would lose it too early and leave Penny disappointed, but the sensations flooding his brain were getting tough for even a Schnee to handle. He wasn’t going to last, despite his best efforts.

“W-W-Whitley?” Penny stammered. “I think…something feels…very strange.” A moan escaped her lips, and she closed her eyes, flooded with some sensations of her own. “I believe I am approaching an-an-an-o-o-orgasm…oh…oh my…”

“My queen.” Cinder Fall went to one knee.

Salem turned away from the view of Atlas, displayed magically in front of her. “Cinder,” she said, her voice thick with a mixture of surprise and contempt. “When I chose you as my vessel for the Maidens, I put my trust in you.” She rose from her throne and walked down the dias, where the Fall Maiden bent her head. “So I trust you wouldn’t possibly return to me emptyhanded.” Cinder fought down a smile, reached back, and held up the Relic of Knowledge. Salem’s eyebrows rose. “And the Winter Maiden?”

“Polendina’s creation interfered with the transfer of the Winter Maiden powers, but there’s no possible way it could have transferred to a robot without a soul.”

The gigantic Grimm whale they were in shuddered, and Salem whirled to look at the viewscreen. A shockwave radiated outwards from Atlas, enough that Grimm were blown backwards, and a cone of snowy white shot upwards from the center of the city, roiling with pure, raw energy. Salem turned back to Cinder and thumbed towards the screen. “So what’s that, then?”

“Er…” Cinder turned beet red. She’d seen that before, and knew _exactly_ what it was. 

“I’m waiting,” Salem commented.

Neo took out her Scroll and typed rapidly on it, then held it up for the Grimm Queen to see. SOME MAIDEN JUST GOT HER ROCKS OFF, THAT’S WHAT.

Salem’s eyebrows rose again. “Cinder? Is that what that is?”

“Um…well…”

Salem looked at Neo. “And how do _you_ know?” Neo stared back, unafraid, and then made a rather lewd gesture that involved making a triangle with two fingers and her tongue. Salem blinked. “Oh.” The witch held up her hands. “I mean, I don’t want to be judgemental…Cinder’s love life is none of my business after all…”

Tyrian Callows stepped out of the shadows, and let out a low whistle. “Robot, my Faunus ass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh. Hope Whitley being a Schnee makes him resistant to cold temperatures, or he's going to be a popsicle. 
> 
> I could easily spin this out to a full chapter, with a lot more romance of a (formerly) robot girl discovering physical love, and Whitley--who hasn't known much love at all--doing the same, with maybe less of a humorous spin. I might do it someday, but this will have to do. Sometimes it's nice just writing something fluffy too, especially after Salem having her wicked way with Oscar.


	64. You Got the Silver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby Rose is really worried that her "relations" with Oscar Pine might cause her silver eyes to go out of control. She really needs some advice on what to do, but it's a very personal matter. Fortunately for Ruby, there's a silver-eyed older woman she can ask these questions about.
> 
> Unfortunately, it's Maria "Grimm Reaper" Calavera.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another one I've been thinking about for awhile. "Do silver-eyed warriors have problems in bed? Do extreme emotions risk blinding their lovers?" And it sort of makes sense that Ruby would ask Maria questions like that (without Summer to give her the silver eyes and the bees talk), and that Maria--who's been everywhere and experienced most everything--would be happy to give her advice.

“This is filth,” Maria Calavera remarked, as she turned the page. “Pure filth.” She munched on a handful of Vacuo blueberries, then turned the next page of _Ninjas of Love XII: Mayhem in Menagerie._ “I can’t believe they allow teenagers to read this crap. I swear, if I was that Belladonna girl’s mother…”

Her Scroll buzzed for her attention. She let it go for a moment to finish a paragraph, then looked at it. “Ruby Rose? I wonder what she wants?” Maria clicked on the call button. “Yes, Ruby?”

“Miss Calavera?”

“Maria,” she insisted.

“Can…can I come talk to you? Like, right now?”

“I suppose so. Give me some time to tidy up.” Ruby answered in the affirmative and hung up. Maria sighed, put a bookmark in between the pages, and shoved the book under her mattress. She rolled off the bed, put a robe on over her pajamas, and made the bed up a little better. Then she set out _Little Huntresses On the Prairie_ and waited for Ruby to arrive. It didn’t take long before there were soft but insistent knocks on her door.

Ruby was dressed in her usual outfit, all red and black, and took a moment to look around after Maria let her in. “Wow, not bad.”

“Only what I’m due. I _was_ the Grimm Reaper, after all.” On General Ironwood’s order, the Atlesian military had given her a small room in the Visiting Officers’ Quarters, not far from Winter Schnee’s apartment. It was perfect for her: a long time as a Huntress on the open road had taught Maria not to become attached to material things. She spent most of her time with Pietro Polendina in Mantle, but even with the longer commute, Maria liked having a nice, warm place to sleep. Plus it would annoy the hell out of Caroline Cordovin.

She motioned Ruby to a seat; there were two around a small table. “Would you like some tea? Milk? Beer?”

Ruby looked at her boots. “I think…if it’s okay with you…I’d like a beer.” She needed a little liquid courage for what she was going to have to say. 

Maria raised an eyebrow behind her cybernetic glasses. “Aren’t you below the legal drinking age around here?”

“Maybe?” Ruby had no idea.

Maria laughed. “Don’t worry about it.” In her twilight years, Maria had found she enjoyed being something of a serial lawbreaker. She walked over to the tiny fridge and took out two Atlas Pale Ales; there was some Death Stalker moonshine in there as well, but Maria figured Ruby didn’t need that. It was for medicinal purposes only. She thunked one bottle of beer down in front of the young Huntress, then grabbed her skull-headed cane and used it to pop the top off both bottles. She hopped up on the other chair and raised her bottle. “What are we toasting to tonight, Ruby?”

“Um…silver eyes.” Ruby was a bit worried that Maria might take that the wrong way—Maria’s silver eyes were gone, taken from her by a sword blade that had blinded the legendary Huntress as a much younger woman. The cybernetic vision she had today was a poor substitute. Instead, however, Maria nodded, and clinked her bottle against Ruby’s. Both took a drink. Ruby put down the bottle, smacked her lips in distaste, and shuddered with the bitterness. “First time drinking a beer?” Maria asked.

“Yeah,” Ruby coughed.

“Not for everyone. But as my papa used to say, Huntsmen either grew old and drunk or died young and sober.” Maria took a sip this time, then folded her hands on the table in front of her. “So, Ruby Rose, what can the Grimm Reaper do for you? It sounded kind of urgent, though you haven’t said much since you got here.”

“Well…” Ruby couldn’t meet Maria’s eyes, and seem fixated on a spot on the floor. Her face began to turn red. “It’s really…really personal. But I figure, since you have silver eyes—“

“Had,” Maria corrected her.

“—had silver eyes…and since you’re a girl like me—“

“Last I checked.”

“—maybe I can ask you this.” Ruby suddenly turned and grabbed Maria’s hands. “But please don’t tell anyone, especially my sister, okay?”

“All right.” Maria leaned back in her chair, and a grin broke out over her lined face. “It’s about sex, isn’t it?”

“Oh gods.” Ruby’s head dropped to the table. “Yes,” she murmured.

“Nothing to be ashamed of, kiddo. You get to my age, not much surprises you.” She laughed. “Ruby, I’ve had all breed of men, a few of women, and several of livestock. Nothing you say will embarrass me or bother me in the slightest.”

“All breed of _huh?_ ” Ruby’s silver eyes were as round as saucers, and nearly as big.

“I’m kidding about the livestock part.”

“I just…I guess…” Ruby stammered.

“You thought I was this chaste, quiet Huntress who spent all her days killing Grimm?” Maria laughed again, slapping a hand on the table. “My dear,” she smiled at Ruby, “I was your age once, and I can tell you some stories that would raise your hair.”

_Fifty Years Previously_

_Somewhere in Mistral_

Maria Calavera toweled herself off after a brisk shower, then wiped the condensation off the mirror. She liked what she saw: a toned body exotic enough that men found her alluring, and a face that stopped them in their tracks with sheer beauty. She fluffed out her short hair—cut short to keep her twin staves from getting tangled in it—and pushed up her breasts. Maria sighed. They were beautiful breasts, or so she’d been told, but she wished they were a little larger. She turned and admired the toned rear end; killing Grimm kept the Reaperbooty nice and firm. Nice legs that showed a long time on the road, but not too long.

She heard knocking at her hotel room door and quickly put on a towel before answering it. The man waiting there was tall and handsome, with muscles that visibly bulged against the travelers’ outfit he wore. “Hey there, Grimm Reaper. I see you were expecting me.”

Maria smiled seductively, her silver eyes sparkling with promise. “I sure was, Winchester.” She motioned him to one side. “And I see you brought a friend. Hi, Minotaur.”

The bull Faunus grinned back. “Hi yourself, Maria.” He stepped to one side, revealing a shorter, sheep Faunus that looked like she wanted to be somewhere else, if she could only remember where she was at the moment. “You remember Rosemary?”

“Rosemary Thyme?” Maria smiled. “Your first trip out as a licensed Huntress, and you fell in with these two perverts?”

Rosemary weaved unsteadily, her eyes bleary. “’Sup, Maria?”

“What’s up is you’re drunk.”

“I am sober, my good sir!” Rosemary shouted, and nearly fell over.

Maria motioned them in, all three of them, before the other hotel patrons started complaining about the noise, and shut the door. “Brought the beer,” Winchester said, and grinned. “You want to get your drunk on first, or you want to play around?”

Maria laughed and dropped her towel. “I want to be sober for this.” She somersaulted onto the bed, her legs splayed open. “Hop in, boys and girl! Plenty of the Grimm Reaper to go around!”

_Back in the Present_

“Maria? Maria? Miss Calavera?”

Maria blinked a few times, the cybernetic vision making clicking noises. She shook off the memory. “I’m sorry, Ruby…I drifted off a little there. That happens when you get old.” She sighed and took another pull on the beer. “So it’s about sex.”

“Uh, yeah.” Ruby took another drink herself; she hated the beer, but she needed _something_ to deal with a rather dry mouth. “Well, you see…I’m in a relationship now, with uh…someone who will remain anonymous…”

“Oscar Pine,” Maria said. Ruby gave a start. “Partially blind, not completely so,” the older woman said, thinking to herself that she _could_ be completely blind and still know what was going on between Ruby and Oscar.

“Right,” Ruby replied, suppressing a groan. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, but there was no one else around with silver eyes. _I wish Mom were here…no, scratch that,_ Ruby thought morosely. She could not picture herself asking sex questions of Summer Rose. “So…I was wondering…when…er…you know…when you have s-s-s—“

“Spit it out!” Maria demanded. “You were wondering what happens when silver eyed girls have sex!”

“Um…yeah.” Ruby was as red as her namesake.

“Nothing.” Maria took a drag on the beer.

“Nothing?” Ruby asked incredulously.

“Okay, Ruby,” Maria pointed at her, “you’re in a relationship with this Oscar boy.”

“Well, he’s only a little under two years younger than me—“

“Everyone’s boys and girls to me,” Maria interrupted. “So you’re in a relationship—yes or no?”

“Yes,” Ruby confirmed.

“And you’ve had sex?”

“Er, yeah,” Ruby replied, still very red.

“How many times?”

“In one night or total?”

“Grand total.”

“I guess…maybe five, six times?”

Maria nodded. “And what has happened all those times? Oscar get you off? You’d better tell me yes, or I’m going to have a ‘talk’ with that boy.” She raised the skull cane for emphasis.

The vision of Maria beating Oscar repeatedly with her cane sprang into Ruby’s mind. “Oh yeah, every time!” She smiled self-consciously. “He’s really a good guy,” she said. “He’s kind, he’s considerate…I mean, sometimes he, um, goes first, but you see, I’m not really good at some things…” Ruby was not about to tell Maria what those some things were; there were some secrets she intended to take to the grave.

“That’s all right; you’re still new at this.” Maria patted Ruby’s hand. “So no problems in getting off for either of you.”

“Nope,” Ruby answered.

“Excellent!” Maria thumped her hand on the table again. “Good to hear.” She finished the beer. “Now tell me, Ruby…have your silver eyes ever gone off?”

Ruby paused. “No.”

“Never blinded the poor kid?”

“Nope.”

“Never taken out the ceiling, or maybe one of the walls?” Ruby’s eyes got huge again, and Maria cackled. “Just kidding. Unless the walls are Grimm, that won’t happen.” She continued, still smiling. She remembered having a talk like this with another female silver-eyed warrior herself, a long time ago. “Remember Brunswick Farms and the Apathy?”

“Not unless I have to,” Ruby replied. 

“Right, but you remember how I got you to activate them. Thinking about your friends, how you love them, how they make you feel?” Maria held up a hand. “Now I know what you’re thinking, girl. You’re thinking ‘But when I’m getting my ashes hauled by my boyfriend, I’m thinking about how much I love him,’ right?”

“Uh, yep.” That had been exactly what Ruby was thinking.

“Liar.” Maria wiggled her eyebrows. “The only thing you’re thinking about when you hit the zone is how damn good it feels. If that boy is doing _anything_ right, you’re not thinking at all.”

Ruby was blushing again. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“Okay, then. Now, what’s the other times that your silver eyes activate?”

“When me or my friends are in mortal danger?” Ruby made it a question.

“Uh-huh. And are you in mortal danger when you’re with Oscar?”

“Well, no. I mean, he did tie me up once, but they were pretty loose ropes, and—“

Maria held up a hand again, for a different reason. “But not in mortal danger?”

“Nope.”

The Grimm Reaper spread her hands. “So you ‘see,’ Ruby,” she grinned at her own pun, “having silver eyes is awesome against Grimm and agents of this Salem bitch. But it doesn’t do jack in the sack.”

“Oh, okay.” Ruby blew out her breath. “Whew. I was just worried…you know…I don’t want to blind him or anything…”

“You won’t.” Maria hopped down from the chair and took Ruby’s hands. “Now you go on and enjoy yourself, Ruby. Get in all the loving you can. Because I can tell you, you never know when it won’t be there anymore.”

“Thanks, Maria. I really appreciate it.” On impulse, Ruby bent down and hugged Maria. “You’re one of a kind.”

“Well, thanks, kiddo. You ever need advice, you come talk to Maria Calavera. About anything.” She nudged Ruby. “Now go curl that boy’s toes, got it?”

Ruby threw her a salute. “You bet!” She looked at the beer. “Um…is it okay if I don’t finish that? It’s kind of gross.”

“An acquired taste, my dear.” Ruby hugged Maria again, who laughed and shooed the young Huntress out the door. Ruby waved and shut the door behind her.

Maria’s smile faded a bit. She got the bottles of beer, finished hers and Ruby’s, and tossed the bottles expertly into the trash. Then she thought for a moment, and got out the Death Stalker. “Of course,” she mused to herself, “there are _some_ times a silver-eyed warrior has to watch out for silver eyes in the bedroom…but I doubt you’re ever going to be in that position, Ruby Rose.” She sighed, poured herself a glass, then started to laugh uproariously. “Those were the days…”

_Fifty Years Ago (Again)_

_Same Place_

“They’re going to be all right, Miss…Calavera,” the paramedic said, checking her Huntress license. “Are _you_ all right?”

“Oh yes. I squeezed my eyes shut at the last second.” Maria sinched her robe a little tighter, and watched as Winchester, Rosemary Thyme, and Minotaur were led away, their eyes bandaged. “I really don’t know how that happened. Miss Thyme was drinking, and well…”

The paramedic stared up at her from his Scroll, where he was entering her statement. “You were all drinking?”

“I’m afraid so,” Maria said. “It’s been a long week…we had to kill those Manticores…”

“It’s all right,” the paramedic told her. “We owe you Huntresses and Huntsmen a lot. Nothing saying you guys can’t tie one on after a rough mission.” He looked at the Scroll again. “So you say that Rosemary had a flash grenade?”

“Yes,” Maria replied. “We use them to temporarily blind Grimm. I think she detonated it as a joke; she didn’t think it would be as bright as all that.”

“That’s weird. Well, we all do weird things when we’re tipsy, right?” The paramedic laughed, scratching the back of his head.

Maria laughed back, but a lot higher and more forced. “We sure do! We’re idiots after a few beers, I can tell you that!” Of course, it wasn’t what happened at all. What happened was that Winchester had been going down on her, finding just all the right spots with his tongue. The problem was, Rosemary and Minotaur were _also_ using their tongues, over Maria’s breasts and the rest of her body, and it had brought on the most intense, most toe-curling, most screaming-at-the-top-of-her-lungs orgasm she’d ever had. It had also been the most _eye-opening_ orgasm she'd ever had.

“Well, it’s nothing to worry about, ma’am,” the paramedic was saying. “Flash blindness is only temporary.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally the ending was a lot more graphic, but it lacked a punchline, and I was worried about getting *too* graphic (this fic is comedy with occasional smut, not the other way around). I like this one better. 
> 
> Something tells me Maria was a wild one when she was younger.


	65. Team Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby gets home after a trip down to the cafe to find the computer still on in Team RWBY's dorm room. It seems that Blake has been writing some fanfiction of "Ninjas of Love." Ruby decides that the story could use some improvement, Ruby Rose-style.
> 
> Of course, the rest of Team RWBY think the same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Maswartz suggested this one a ways back, and I decided to give it a whirl. It came out pretty good, and man, did I need that laugh. 
> 
> The swimsuit reference is to an earlier chapter of "Love Hurts," where Weiss borrows Winter's swimsuit to go amateur wrestling. There's also a few RWBY Chibi references in here, because every smutfic needs references to a cheerful cartoon.
> 
> And this is a fanfic about fictional characters writing fanfic. I love it when it's super-meta.

“Wakey wakey, hands off snakey!” Ruby Rose yelled out as she entered the dorm room of Team RWBY. Actually, the “hands off snakey” thing didn’t really apply to the four girls of Team RWBY, but Ruby didn’t worry about that and other science facts. 

There was nobody there. Ruby looked in the bathroom, but the borrowed Atlas Academy dorm was deserted, despite it being early in the morning. “Huh,” Ruby mused, as she kicked her boots off. She’d woken up earlier than usual, couldn’t get back to sleep, and decided to run out and grab some coffee and breakfast. She sipped it as she sat down at the computer desk, and noticed handwritten notes jotted down on a notepad from her teammates. In Blake’s handwriting was a note that she had gone food shopping; it was her turn this week. In Weiss’ precise script was a note that she was returning her sister’s swimsuit. And in Yang’s sloppy handwriting was a barely legible note that she was out for a run; Yang had been worried that she was putting on weight lately. 

Ruby shrugged, took another drink of coffee, and switched on the computer to go check her e-mail. She noticed that the computer had been in sleep mode, and when the screen came on, it showed a few lines of text. “Oh yeah,” Ruby said aloud, “Blake was working on something before we got that Grimm alert last night. I’ll just save it, just in case…” Her words trailed off as she read what Blake had written.

_“We can’t do this,” the kunoichi Nekoko_ _said to the samurai Ryuki. “It’s forbidden!”_

_Ryuki gently pulled down the kimono, exposing Nekoko’s heaving breasts and nipples, erect with desire. “Because we are both women?” she asked, licking her lips._

_“No,” Nekoko replied, “because I am ninja and you are samurai. It wouldn’t be right…”_

_“My love for you transcends such ridiculous notions of caste,” Ryuki told her, kissing her softly. “I care not for what is right or wrong, only for what is now.”_

_Nekoko moaned as Ryuki kissed her way down her neck to the hollow between her breasts. She licked at the eager nipples, and Nekoko moaned again, leaning back, her thighs falling open in surrender. Ryuki smiled and slipped the hakama off over the beautiful thighs and perfect buttocks. Only a thin cloth fundoshi lay between the samurai and her objective. She leaned forward, kissing those full lips again, as her gloved hand slipped between cloth and skin, exploring her forbidden lover._

Ruby took a drink of coffee, silver eyes wide. “This is _filth,_ ” she breathed as she read, and was a little disappointed when she reached the end, as Ryuki removed the kunoichi’s underwear, leaving her completely naked. “Aww…I wanted to see what happens next.” Ruby checked the author of the piece, and wasn’t all that surprised to see it was Blake herself. She knew the Faunus liked to write fanfiction based in the _Ninjas of Love_ universe, but this was the first time Ruby had ever gotten a chance to read it. It might be filth, but it was really good filth. Blake was a good writer. Ruby realized that Blake had forgotten to close the window on the writing in the haste to get dressed and respond to the Grimm alarm. 

Ruby suddenly had a terrible idea. Surely Blake wouldn’t mind if someone added to her story? After all, Ruby was pretty good at writing, which was a complete lie that Ruby told herself; her attempts at creative writing at Beacon had gotten her a string of Cs, and her attempt at a play had fallen flatter than Harriet Bree's chest. Nonetheless, Ruby took another drink of coffee, cracked her knuckles, and began writing. About half an hour later, she’d written a few paragraphs, but the coffee wasn’t as effective as she thought it would be, and her eyelids were beginning to droop. “I’ll finish this later,” she yawned, hit save, and minimized the window. Then Ruby got undressed down to her underwear, climbed into bed, and was asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

Less than ten minutes after Ruby went back to bed, Weiss returned to the dorm room. She almost called out a greeting, but then saw her friend’s reddish hair against the pillow, and instead quietly slipped into the room. Unlike the rest of Team RWBY, Weiss was a morning person and was wide awake. Careful not to make noise, she walked over to the computer and saw that it was still on; Weiss saw the minimized window marked STUFF. Curious, she brought it up. “Oh, Blake’s smut,” she whispered, trying not to giggle, and because she was a little bored, decided to read it. It was rather good, Weiss admitted, for smut, but then she got down to a paragraph break.

_As Ryuki began to strip for action, suddenly five samurai in full battle rattle burst through the ricepaper walls. “Ha! Caught you!” the lead samurai, Romanu Torchwicku, yelled. “Now you will masturbate in hell, you evil bad women!” he laughed evilly, like the evil bastard he was._

_“That’s what you think!” Ryuki shouted. Even though she was down to her bra and panties herself—her yellow armor was on the floor by this time—she whipped out a .44 magnum revolver from somewhere. In one smooth motion, she fired, the copper-jacketed bullet coming out of the barrel like a screaming banshee of vengeance. One of the other samurai, who had pink and brown hair that looked stupid as hell, died instantly as the bullet smashed through her skull, blowing brain matter and blood across the walls. “You’re STAIN!” Ryuki said with great justice._

_Romanu only laughed. “I’ve brought my own weapon, fools!” He whipped out his samurai sword and pointed it at Ryuki. It exploded, sending twenty millimeter depleted uranium shells at the two girls. Both of them dodged the shells. Nekoko rolled over her kimono, dived into it, and brought up a handful of shruiken. “Ha!” Romanu laughed. “You’re buck naked, bitch! All you’ve got is a couple of ninja stars? Your brain is broken, youngster!”_

_“These are more than just shruiken!” Nekoko shouted, and threw them at two of the other samurai, who were wearing white masks to cover their stupid faces. Both stars hit, and the samurai exploded into a wave of red mist and destroyed intestines. “Explode at 10 o’clock sharp!” Nekoko laughed._

_“Impressive!” Romanu grinned. “Most impressive! But I have brought reinforcements, ha ha!” Ten more samurai, wearing white masks like the others, arrived and crowded into the room._

“Oh gods,” Weiss said softly, trying not to laugh. “Leave it to Ruby to turn a romance fanfiction into a bad action movie. At least she didn’t put in a self-insert this time.” She then had to suppress a giggle. Ruby had even gotten in a dig at the deceased Roman Torchwick and the hopefully-deceased Neo Politan in the process, as well as the White Fang. 

Blake’s romance was now permanently ruined, but Weiss thought she might could salvage it. It would at least get the fic back on track, and after all, Weiss had scored straight As in Professor Peach’s creative writing course. Weiss stretched and began to type, but hadn’t gotten very far before her Scroll buzzed. Ruby mumbled something and turned over in her sleep. Weiss picked it up, sighing: it was Winter. “Yes, Winter?” she asked in a whisper. “What do you mean, ‘clean it’? It is clean! It—oh. No, I didn’t notice the bloodstains. It must’ve been from that match…yes, sister. Of course. I will do it immediately. Yes.” The Scroll clicked off, and Weiss sighed, thinking dark thoughts about her somewhat anal-retentive older sister. She saved what she had wrote, got up, pulled her boots back on, and left, closing the door as quietly as possible. In her grumbling about Winter, Weiss had forgotten to minimize the story tab.

Yang opened the door to the dorm room about ten minutes later. “Top of the morning to you crazy wenches!” she announced.

“Shaddup,” Ruby shot back, and rolled over to go back to sleep.

Yang smirked, kicked her boots off, tossed her jacket on a hook, and went over to bug her sister. Then she noticed the computer was on, and diverted her course to the desk. She read for awhile standing up, then slowly sat. “Whoa,” she breathed, reading Blake’s part of the fanfiction. Then she bit her lip to not burst into laughter, at what was obviously Ruby’s contribution. Then she settled down to read the next few paragraphs.

_As the samurai waded through the gore into the room, suddenly three of them were decapitated in a single stroke. Romanu turned in shock to see another samurai, this one dressed in shining white armor. “Who dares?” he demanded._

_“I dare!” Mashiro Yuki replied, leveling his katana. It shimmered with its inherent magic. “Your reign of terror ends here, Torchwicku Romanu!” He swung twice, killing two more of the evil samurai. “All shall fall beneath my righteous fury!” He proved it was no idle boast: five of the enemy charged him; five of them died, their heads falling to the dust._

_“I see that the battle has turned against me,” Romanu observed. “Very well, Mashiro—the day is yours. But you have not seen the last of Torchwicku Romanu! I will do what I always have—lie, cheat, and survive!” He threw down a smoke bomb, and escaped in the foul-smelling gray mist._

_“My thanks,” Ryuki said, returning the pistol to the holster she wore across her narrow hips—her only article of clothing besides her underwear. “I’m afraid those foul vermin have the worst timing.”_

_Mashiro saw the two women’s state of undress, and blushed at Nekoko’s nudity before turning away. “My…my apologies, ladies. I will escort you from the castle when you have had a chance to dress. Nekoko, despite your status as a wanted kunoichi, you shall be safe beneath my protection.”_

_Nekoko walked up to the samurai and ran her hands across his armor. “Perhaps, my lord, you would like to…join us.”_

_“Join you?” The samurai turned a deeper shade of red. “I…I couldn’t. It would not be proper for one of my station!”_

_“Proper is not a concern between us,” Ryuki said, motioning to herself and the kunoichi. “Why should it be between one more?” She pulled off her breast wrapping and held out an inviting hand, as Mashiro turned despite himself. “I have always desired you…and I’m certain that Nekoko would not mind.”_

_“I would not,” Nekoko smiled. “For I too have always desired this handsome warrior.” She began unstrapping his armor._

_“I…I would lie with you both,” Mashiro said, giving into the desire blossoming in his heart, “but not here in this charnel house. Let us repair to the garden, and the hot spring there.” Nekoko laughed softly and the three of them left the scene of battle, to the warm hot spring beyond._

“Huh,” Yang said, as she finished what the former heiress had written, which involved the two women and the samurai reaching the hot springs; Mashiro was down to his fundoshi at that point. “Weiss is pretty good at this stuff. Wonder why she didn’t finish? I guess she must’ve had to leave or something. Still, Blake will like what Weiss wrote, anyway…” Then an evil smile Salem would’ve found disturbing spread across Yang’s face. “Well, Blakey wouldn’t mind if _I_ added something, would she?” Yang knew that Blake most definitely _would_ mind, but the Faunus couldn’t stay mad at her lover, so Yang let out an evil chortle and began typing.

_Ryuki took off Mashiro’s banana hammock, revealing his ten-inch cock, which quickly rose to attention. “Oh wow, is that for me?” she laughed, kneeled down, and wrapped her lips around it. Mashiro groaned as Ryuki’s tongue ran over his dick and her hands cupped his big balls, full of the stuff she wanted to feel pouring down her throat._

_“Don’t leave me out,” Nekoko said. She dropped onto her back, her perfect legs submerged in the hot spring, and used her fingers to pry open Ryuki’s snatch. It was already dripping with love juice, and Nekoko plunged her tongue deep inside. Nekoko gasped and took her lips away from Mashiro’s rod long enough to moan loudly. “Oh, yeah, eat me out, you dirty ninja you!” Then she returned to licking the samurai’s tool like it was a lollipop. Mashiro ran his hands through Ryuki’s hair. “Yeah, that’s right, suck it good!” he exclaimed._

_Ryuki moaned as she sucked Mashiro hard, as Nekoko’s tongue reached up to her clit and began licking there. Soon, Ryuki had to stop drinking dick and leaned back as Nekoko continued to eat her out like the pro she was. Mashiro knelt down and began licking Ryuki’s nipples, which were rock hard atop her love melons. It wasn’t long before Ryuki came harder than she ever had before, screaming her head off. Nekoko greedily drank all of the juice that shot out of Ryuki’s pussy._

_“Out of the way, ninja bitch!” Mashiro yelled. “I’m going to cram my cock deep!”_

_“Only if you suck on my tits while you fuck her!” Nekoko yelled back, and they changed positions. Ryuki laughed happily as she saw Mashiro’s giant cock ready to smash her like the comet that destroyed the moon_

“I’m home,” Blake groaned as she got the door open. She held grocery bags in one hand. The door almost closed on her, but Weiss—who had one hand holding another grocery bag—was able to catch it in time. “Thanks, Weiss. Glad I ran into you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Weiss said, following the Faunus into the room. “I just had to run down to my sister’s to get this swimsuit—it’s got a tiny drop of blood on it, and she’s losing her head—“ Then she saw Yang at the computer. “Oh, hi, Yang.”

“Hey, Weissy—Blakey.” Yang hit save and rolled back in the chair, a self-satisfied smile on her face. “Blake, I found your story.”

Blake nearly dropped the eggs; luckily, Huntress reflexes saved them. “You _what?”_ She whirled, face flushed with anger. “Dammit, Yang! You weren’t supposed to read that! It’s not even _close_ to being finished anyway!”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Yang replied, “seems Ruby and Weiss took it on themselves to finish it for you. With a little help from little ol’ me, of course.”

“You did _WHAT?!”_ Blake shoved the groceries onto the counter and ran to the computer, pushing a giggling Yang aside. Ruby woke up, blinking as she sat up. “Whass goin’ on?” she said blearily.

“Oh, nothing,” Yang said, idly inspecting her fingernails. “Seems Blake just found out what you two have been up to.” Ruby yawned, then rolled out of bed, seemingly not the least bit concerned. Weiss was turning a rather interesting shade of pink, however.

Blake scanned the document with her eyes. When she reached Ruby’s gorefest, she hung her head. “Oh gods, Ruby. What the actual hell.”

“What? It’s ten times better now!” Ruby insisted. “All that lust in the dust crap needed some excitement.” She hugged herself. “’Oh, Ryoko, you’re so beautiful and our love is so forbidden!’ Bleah.” She stuck her tongue out.

“It’s Ryuki, not Ryoko!” Blake snapped. “And it’s a beautiful love story between two women whose love has been unrequited—and you turn it into a bad Spruce Willis movie! They didn’t have guns like that in that time! And putting in Roman frigging Torchwick! And _Neo?_ ”

“At least I killed her!”

“This is horrible.” Blake continued to read, then her ears—which had been flattened against her head in anger and confusion—perked up. “Oh wait. This…Mashiro…this is…wow, this is pretty good here.”

“That would be _my_ contribution,” Weiss said proudly.

Blake shoved an unresisting Yang out of the chair and sat down. “Mashiro arriving is something I would’ve never have thought of,” she admitted. “This is really good, Weiss. The dialogue’s a little over the top, but…oh.” The Faunus blushed. “A threesome? Well…I guess that’s a new way to think of it, but that’s truly forbidden between them…and it _does_ clear up some unrequited love between Ryuki and Mashiro…”

Weiss crossed over to them as Yang got to her feet. “I thought so. It could end with them making love, or perhaps Mashiro would not feel worthy and leave.”

“I don’t think Ryuki would let him leave. If anything, Nekoko would feel out of place with the two samurai, and I don’t know if I could what the _fuck is this?”_ Blake had found Yang’s writing.

Weiss’ hands came up to her mouth in shock. “Oh gods. That’s filthy.”

Ruby hopped out of the bed and squeezed between them. “Really? Let me see.” She turned as red as the other two. “Holy schneet. Yang...whoa.”

Yang grinned. “Yeah, I thought it added a certain gravitas to the proceedings.”

“You don’t even know what that means!” Weiss yelled. “By the Good Brother, Yang, this is…this is…”

“Utter filth,” Blake finished. “Gods, it’s horrible! It reads like one of those letters to Menageriehouse.” Blake shook herself. “Er, not that I’ve ever read one of those or anything.”

Suddenly Yang started laughing. “Oh, man, you two,” she snickered. “I wasn’t being serious. You can delete all that, Blakey—I was trying to be silly. I can write better than that.”

“True,” Weiss had to admit. “Yang pulled an A in Professor Peach’s creative writing course—when she remembered to do the homework.”

Blake reread the fic, then couldn’t help herself: she started laughing too. “You know…this _is_ pretty hilarious, now that you mention it.”

Yang leaned over and kissed one of Blake’s ears, which flicked. “I’m sorry, Blake. I just thought I’d have some fun with you.”

“Me too,” Ruby added. “I mean, that _is_ how I’d write it, if it was my story.” She blushed again, afraid to admit that she’d been tempted to write smut a few times herself, but was too embarrassed to start.

“Oh hell,” Blake laughed. “I can’t stay mad at you two.” She winked at Weiss. “And I think you and I could actually write some damn good stuff, romance or not.”

Weiss leaned against the table, put out a hand, and Blake smacked it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ruby's part of the story was inspired by bad Hong Kong kung fu flicks, with appropriately bad dialogue (thank you, Adam Warren and Gen13); figures that Ruby would probably love that. If there's a Michael Bay on Remnant, Ruby Rose is his biggest fan.
> 
> Weiss' character, Mashiro Yuki, is a very rough translation in fanboy Japanese to "White Snow." Seems Weiss is doing a little self-insertion. (Then again, so is Blake--"Nekoko" translates to "Catgirl" and "Ryuki" is another rough translation to "Yellow Dragon.") Read into that what you will.
> 
> And something tells me Yang would be tempted beyond reason to turn Blake's nice romance into the filthiest fanfic imaginable. I feel like I should apologize for that; I was actually a little embarrassed myself to write it.


	66. Strange Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss decides to visit Jaune for a night of loving bliss. Mainly because she wants him to try out a little something new...like his Semblance, on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea came out of the earlier chapter (Chapter 60, "I'll Be There for You"), where the girls of Team RWBY talk about what it would be like to be with other people besides their current boyfriends/girlfriends. Ruby had wondered if Jaune's Aura-enhancement Semblance could be used in the bedroom, which gave Weiss ideas.
> 
> I've been meaning to write this one ever since, but other ideas came to mind first, but here you go. Power Perversion Potential at its finest.

Weiss Schnee raised her hand to knock on Jaune Arc’s dorm room door, and hesitated for a second. She wasn’t sure she wanted to do this on several levels. 

Weiss was never quite sure how to essentially make a booty call. Raised a prim and proper Schnee, an upbringing that implied strongly that women didn’t like sex—probably based on Willow’s relationship with Jacques—it left Weiss somewhat ill-prepared to simply ask for it. She didn’t really know how to share this problem: until they’d come to Atlas, Weiss hadn’t been sure that her best friend, Ruby Rose, even knew what sex was. She’d swiftly been disabused of that notion once Ruby had gotten into a relationship with Oscar Pine, but Weiss knew Ruby’s social awkwardness was what had held her back. Blake didn’t have to ask for sex; every male on Remnant who liked women salivated over Blake Belladonna. Yang Xiao Long didn’t have that problem either, and Yang also had all the tact of a charging Boarbatusk. Weiss was sure that Yang's approach towards requesting sex from Blake involved several words that began with f and were very direct.

So there was that. Weiss, once she had started being “friends with benefits” with Jaune, had pretty much run the gamut on how to ask for sex. She had occasionally knocked on Jaune’s door, then as soon as he opened it, either kissed him or simply pulled up her nightdress to show that she wasn’t wearing underwear; Jaune got the message very quickly. Sometimes they’d planned it out beforehand, so Jaune knew that a knock on his door at eleven o’clock was Weiss, and he could answer the door in his boxers, or stark naked (which he’d done once or twice, much to Weiss’ secret thrill). And once or twice, Weiss had just brushed past Jaune after he answered the door, and demanded imperiously that he get with the coital responsibility forthwith. Jaune seemed to like that on occasion. 

This situation was a bit different. 

Weiss stopped herself a second time. _Do I want this?_ she thought to herself. On one hand, asking Jaune to do what she was going to ask just seemed wrong, almost abusive. On the other, she _was_ getting rather delicious shivers just thinking about it. 

“I’m such a slut,” Weiss berated herself, which was very, very far from the truth. Nonetheless, she knocked on Jaune’s door.

He answered it, dressed in his usual atttire before bed, when he wasn’t suspecting the arrival of an amorous Weiss Schnee—T-shirt and shorts. “Oh,” he said with a smile. “Hi, Weiss.” She was dressed casually as well, in Atlas Academy issue shirt and shorts; she’d told the rest of Team RWBY she was going for a workout…though from their half-hidden smiles and smothered titters of laughter, Weiss was sure she hadn’t fooled any of them. “What’s up?”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure.” Jaune let her go past him, and shut the door. “What’s up?” he repeated. “If you don’t mind me saying, you seem a bit upset.”

“I’m not upset,” Weiss told him, then unsure of what else to do, she sat on the bed. “It’s just that…I want to ask you something, but I don’t know how to do it.”

He shrugged. “Just tell me, Weiss. I can handle it.”

That was true, Weiss reflected. This was a full-grown man in front of her now, not the awkward teenager of Beacon. “All right. But please don’t think I’m weird.” Weiss took a deep breath. “I…would like to, well, have sex tonight. Make love,” she amended; the other words made her feel more slutty. Rarely she might _want_ to feel that way, but definitely not tonight. “If that’s all right with you.”

Jaune was a bit taken aback, but not embarrassed. He would have been, a few weeks ago, probably to the point of incoherence. But Weiss was now a wonderfully, lovely known quantity, one that he could not and would not refuse. “Uh, sure. No problem. But, er, you usually aren’t so…well…”

“I usually don’t just come out and ask.” Weiss blushed. “That’s because there’s something else I want you to do tonight, and…it’s very odd.”

For Jaune’s part, he couldn’t think of what it could be. Though it would’ve surprised Team RWBY, who figured Weiss was hopelessly traditional in the bedroom, she could be rather adventurous. She had used her Semblance to immobilize herself for Jaune once (which had ended with him passing out from sheer lust), they’d done roleplaying (Weiss had borrowed Winter’s uniform for a little dominatrix action), and she’d found she rather liked oral, both giving and receiving. While she could never match Yang for sheer demented inventiveness, she was far from the staid, prissy and prim heiress her reputation held she was. “Well, you know, I’m pretty much open to everything.”

“Very well. Would you…” Weiss covered her face with her hands in embarrassment. “…would you use your Semblance on me?”

Jaune was perplexed. “Sure, but what for? All I can do is enhance Auras…as you know.”

“Only too well.” Had Jaune not unlocked that Semblance, Weiss would have been killed when Cinder Fall impaled her with an obsidian spear at Haven. “But I’m wondering if it might have…other uses.”

“Like what?”

Weiss decided that deeds might be better than words. She got to her feet, stood on tiptoe, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him. “Let’s find out.”

Jaune grinned. “Why not? Race you.”

Weiss giggled and quickly stripped naked; Jaune won the race, since he had less to remove. They stood there for a moment, admiring each other’s bodies, but couldn’t keep a straight face. This happened sometimes too, but Weiss admitted to herself—and no one else—that it was fun being naked in front of Jaune. She got on the bed, and scooted over so Jaune could join her. “Okay,” he said. “How do we do this?”

“I don’t even know if it’ll work.” Weiss laughed. “It’s so silly, Jaune.”

“So? I can do silly.” He gently turned her over on her back. “Tell you what. Let’s get you nice and relaxed.”

“I can live with that.” Weiss pillowed her head on her arms, as Jaune went to work. They’d done this a few times as well, and she really liked it. Jaune was good at massages. He started on her shoulders, then her back, then her thighs and calves, ending with her rear end. She purred in satisfaction. “Relaxed?” he asked her.

“Any more and I’ll be asleep,” she said.

“We don’t want that.” He turned her back over, and Weiss saw he was hard. She sat up. “Would you like me to do something for you?”

“Um…let’s wait. I really want to see if this Aura thing works. I’m curious now.” He looked a bit quizzically at her. “Where did you come up with this, actually?”

“Oh, you know…girl talk with the rest of Team RWBY.” She smiled at him and wiggled her eyebrows. “We got to talking about guys’ Semblances, and how that could be used in the bedroom.” She didn’t want to admit it was Ruby who had given her the idea. “You mean you, Ren and Oscar never have guy talk?”

“Heh. Not really. I think Ren’s a bit shy on that. I’ve heard more from Nora on their relationship.” Which apparently involved being suplexed into bed. "Oscar doesn't say much either."

Weiss lay back down, stretching out her legs. “Well, let’s do this before I change my mind.”

“Okay. Here we go.” Jaune put his hands on her abdomen, then quickly bent down and kissed the scar on her side. Weiss let out another giggle. “Don’t!” she told him. “It tickles.”

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist. This time for sure.” He closed his eyes and concentrated, then opened them again. White shimmers came out from beneath his palms, and spread in waves across Weiss’ body, even through her hair. “Feel any different?” Jaune had to force himself to concentrate, and not think about the last time he’d done this, with Weiss’ blood, so dark red it was almost black, pooling beneath her body and her skin so pale it had been ghostly. He was sure he was going to lose her then--yet another girl he couldn't save. 

“Hmm…it tingles a little.” Weiss frowned, concentrating as well. It didn’t feel bad, but it felt less erotic than the massage. “I’m not unconscious or in pain this time, so I can sense it more, but it’s…hmm. Just hard to describe.”

Jaune pulled his hands away and sat back on his haunches. “Mind if I try some ideas?”

She nodded. “Please do.”

He held up his hands to make sure his Semblance was still active—Jaune was never quite sure of himself in that regard—and carefully touched her lips. Weiss winced, and he instantly pulled back his fingers. “Sorry! Did that hurt?”

“No, just felt strange. Like when you lick a battery.” She sniffed a laugh. “Yes, I did that when I was a kid, just like everyone else.”

Jaune laughed too, though it was a bit of a forced laugh; his sisters had _made_ him lick a battery when he was a kid. “Gotcha. Well, let’s try this.” He reached for one of her nipples. Weiss swallowed nervously and gave him a nod. He touched it.

_“Yow!”_ Weiss gasped. Jaune nearly fell off the bed. “Sorry, sorry!” he apologized. “Oh, man, Weiss—“

“No!” she exclaimed, grabbing his fingers. “It’s all right, but…look.” They both stared at the nipple. It had hardened instantly, poking upwards like a pencil eraser. The other one had done the same, but in response to the first. “That’s…it’s never been that hard. Try the other one,” she told him.

“Oookay…” He did the same, and Weiss actually jumped a few inches off the bed. “Gods!” Weiss exclaimed. At the look of concern on his face, she nodded jerkily. “I’m all right. It’s just…shocking, really. Almost literally.”

“Maybe we’d better stop,” Jaune said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not hurting me, Jaune.” Weiss brought up a hand to caress his face. “You’re not hurting me.” She blew out a breath. “Well, just one spot left to try…”

“Are you sure about that?” Jaune was nervous. “Maybe I’d better not try this…er…internally.”

Weiss gave it some thought. “No, not yet. Let’s try…” She turned beet red and covered her face. “You know,” she managed to say.

“You mean your…”

“Yes,” Weiss confirmed. “My, ah…er…you know.” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. It felt so dirty, and yet that was what she wanted more than anything at the moment.

Jaune had the expression of a explosive ordnance expert trying to defuse a high-yield fuel-air bomb. He wondered if he shouldn’t get some sort of signed waiver and a lawyer before he tried this. Still, confronted with Weiss’ beautiful face and blue eyes, he could never refuse her. Gently, he pushed her thighs apart. She began to tremble as his fingers went between them. She was already aroused, and she could feel his fingers, even though they weren’t touching her yet. She gave him another nod. Jaune gulped and put his glowing fingers on that little nub at the top of her folds. 

Weiss felt an electric current go straight from her groin, up her spinal cord, directly into her brain. She instantly arched her back, and screamed so loud the window rattled. The screaming didn’t last for long, since the pleasure was simply too much for the human mind to handle, and Weiss’ brain decided to take a little time off. Her eyes rolled back and she went limp.

Jaune’s hands went to his mouth in shock, his Semblance instantly deactivating. “Weiss?” he whispered, then louder, “Weiss?” He shook her. There was no response. “Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh _shit!”_

He grabbed his boxers and was just hauling them on when there was a hammering at his door. He dashed to the door and got it open a moment before either Nora or Yang would’ve wrenched it off its hinges. “What’s going on?” Yang demanded. Behind her, he could see everyone: Ruby, Blake, Ren, even Oscar, in various states of sleepwear. “We heard Weiss scream!”

“I…I…” Jaune stammered. “I…I think I killed her.”

“You did _what?”_ Jaune fell back as Nora and Yang—which luckily were the only two that could fit through the doorway at once—pushed past him into the room. Both women stopped at the sight of Weiss sprawled bonelessly on the bed. “You guys stay back!” Yang instructed, then pointed metal fingers at Jaune. “What the hell did you do to her, Jaune?”

As Jaune spluttered, trying to get words out, Nora went to the bed and put a hand on Weiss’ left breast. “She’s not dead,” she told them, “her heart’s still—“

Weiss’ eyes flew open, and she sat up with a shuddering intake of air. “Ohhh my gods. Oh my gods.” Then she realized that Nora had a rather generous handful of her. “Nora? Yang? What are you doing here?”

Ruby managed to get past Yang, and went pink at the sight of a naked Weiss, with Nora still copping a feel. Weiss pushed back Nora, who grinned sheepishly. “Whoa, Weiss! What’s going on?” Weiss drew her knees up to her chest and positioned her hands to cover her groin, for all the good that did. 

“Yeah, Weissy! What’s going on? You two doing some kind of—“ Yang noticed something. “Man, that bed is _soaked!”_

Weiss wished she could pass out again. _“Out!”_ she shouted. “Get _out!_ I’m fine!” She buried her head in her knees. “Other than I might kill myself in a few seconds…”

Ruby quickly withdrew, certain she didn’t really want to know, and Yang whirled on Jaune, eyebrows raised. “Well?”

“I…uh…I…” Jaune took a deep breath. “I used my Semblance on her. She asked me to, I swear! Don’t kill me, Yang!”

Yang turned to Nora, and the same sly smile spread across their faces. “Oh, really now?” Yang said to Weiss. “So good you passed out, huh?”

“I’m going to kill you, Yang.” Weiss’ voice was muffled by her knees. “I’m going to load fire Dust into Myrtenaster, and I’m going to set you ablaze.”

Yang smirked. “Sounds like Jaune could do that without Dust.” Weiss let out another scream, albeit still muffled, and Yang motioned Nora out of the room. “C’mon. Let’s leave the two lovebirds.” She winked at Jaune and ruffled his hair. “Damn, you’re good. If I didn’t have Blakey…”

“Which you do!” Blake yelled.

Nora shook hands with Jaune as she followed Yang out. “Good job, Jaune,” she grinned at him. “I thought I was the only one who could use my Semblance like that.” She tapped Ren on the chest in reminder. Ren, for his part, closed the door—but not before he threw Jaune a thumbs-up and a whispered “Well done.”

Jaune hung his head, then slowly went over to sit next to Weiss, who was still curled up. “I’m sorry, Weiss.”

She raised her head. “For what?” She smiled. “No reason to apologize for giving me literally the most mind-blowing orgasm on Remnant.” She pulled him into a hug. “Though…I think we’d better stick to more traditional forms of lovemaking in the future. Any more of those and I’m pretty sure I _will_ die.”

“Yeah. I guess we’d better not abuse the Semblance, huh?” Jaune idly wondered what would happen if he tried that on himself, then decided that it would not be worth the trip to the hospital. Or worse. “Not sure what to do now.”

“Oh, I am.” Weiss uncurled, moved over to the less damp side of the bed, and ran her hands up the inside of her thighs. “I’d like to try some of that more traditional stuff, if you don’t mind.”

Jaune’s boxers went flying to the opposite side of the room, and he knelt between her legs. “You sure it’s not too sensitive?”

“I’m sure.”

He straddled her, then slowly bent down and kissed her. “Weiss…I think I like this tradition.”

She brought up her knees and lightly pressed them into his flanks. “Me too. I like it…I like _you_ a lot, Jaune Arc.” She reached up and kissed him back. “Now please, if you’re not busy doing anything else…make love to me.”

So he did. Weiss didn’t scream again, but it wasn’t from a lack of effort on Jaune’s part. Afterwards, as they both drifted into a satisfied sleep, Weiss thought that she was getting used to this.

And she liked that a great deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to write something just cute and fluffy between these two. I really don't know if canon RWBY is heading in this direction with White Knight (probably not; Weiss and Marrow have shared more glances this season than Weiss and Jaune), but man, I want it to. Jaune and Weiss deserve happiness, dammit!
> 
> Speaking of happiness, please keep those reviews (and fic ideas) coming. Reviews mean everything to a writer.


	67. Only You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qrow Branwen is relaxing after a nice session of lovemaking with Winter Schnee. He's feeling pretty good. Everything is going pretty well, and his bad luck Semblance seems to have gone away.
> 
> He should know better than to tempt fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to write something different than this tonight, but the muse struck after I saw some fanart of Winter and Qrow brushing their teeth together, so I figured it was time to get back to Snowbird. It *is* my favorite ship, after all--as much as I like Rosegarden and Bumblebee.
> 
> Pretty proud of this chapter. Everything went the way I wanted it to.

Qrow Branwen had an unusual emotion. He felt very satisfied with himself. So satisfied, he wondered if somehow he hadn’t somehow gotten rid of his bad luck Semblance. _I mean, I have been spending a lot of time around Clover lately. Maybe his good luck cancels out my bad?_

“You’re unusually quiet tonight,” Winter Schnee said. Her fingers idly played with his chest hair. 

“Just thinking that life is pretty damn good lately,” he grinned at her. “My nieces are full Huntresses, the Relics are safe—for now, anyway—and my bad luck seems to have gone away for awhile.” He reached down and ran a hand across her sculpted rear. “And I get to spend every night I can with my girl.”

Winter chuckled. “Not enough nights, unfortunately. But I’m certainly glad you’re here.” She touched his chin. “You’ve shaved, you’ve bathed, you smell nice, and you’ve stopped drinking. Who are you and what have you done with Qrow Branwen?”

“Maybe I’m not Qrow,” he said, his grin getting bigger. “Maybe you just screwed the wrong guy.”

Winter put her head on his chest, her unbound white hair fanning across it. “Well, you were pretty good, so I’ll let it go.” 

It was quiet in Winter’s bedroom for awhile, Qrow gently combing her hair with his fingers. It was like white silk. “You told your parents about us?” He wasn’t sure why he asked that question.

“No. Why should they care? My father’s a conniving prick and my mother is too busy climbing inside a bottle.” Winter tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice and failed. “I think Weiss knows, but she’s too discreet to say anything--good sister that she is. Whitley couldn’t care less.” She rolled over to look at him. The sheets fell away to expose her breasts, and even though it had been less than half an hour since their last lovemaking “session,” as Winter called them, Qrow felt himself getting hard again. Winter didn’t notice. “What about you? Who have you told?”

“Tai knows. He’s my brother-in-law, but he’s also about the only family I’ve got besides Ruby and Yang. He’s pretty happy about it. Says it’s about time I hooked up with someone decent.” He didn’t mention Raven, his sister; she had ceased being family a long time ago.

“Ruby and Yang?”

“I think they’ve figured it out. I think they like the idea too.”

“So it’s no great secret.” Winter smiled. “You know, a year ago I would’ve been worried about it. Now I don’t really care.”

“I have a strange don’t-give-a-shit field that I project.”

Winter laughed at that. Qrow liked her laugh. It was kind of a dirty laugh, he thought, hinting at the flesh-and-blood woman beneath the ice-cold, strict exterior. Qrow suspected that his nieces and Weiss thought that he had somehow melted the true Ice Queen of Atlas, but the truth was that Winter was always warm; she’d built up her ice as armor against a world that treated her terribly. Qrow knew that because he’d done the same. Winter had found refuge inside the ordered world of the military, whereas Qrow had found it inside of a whiskey flask.

Winter noticed him staring at her chest and rolled off his chest to lean up on one elbow. She made no move to cover herself. That was something else Qrow liked. Winter was no shrinking violet. There was also that they were simply used to each other now. A few nights before, when Winter had been cooking a late dinner in her nightdress, Qrow had walked naked into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. She had barely noticed. 

She noticed something else, a mountain in the covers. She drew it back, to expose his erection. “What’s this?”

“What do you think it is?” he replied. 

“What brought that on?”

“What do you think?” He reached out and poked her left breast.

“I see.” She leaned back and stretched, which only made Qrow harder. “Well, I suppose I could go for another round.”

“Damn right we can.” He reached out to grab her, only for her Scroll to go off. Both of them stopped and sighed. “Don’t answer it,” Qrow told her.

“Let me see who it is.” Winter reached across to the nightstand to pick up her Scroll, fumbled with it, and promptly dropped it onto the carpet. “Dammit.” She looked over the side of the bed. “Oh, hell. It’s General Ironwood.” She reluctantly picked it up. “I have to take this.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Qrow sat up, as did Winter, who pulled her hair into something resembling its normal look, and answered the call. “Colonel Schnee.” Her hair fell back over her face, obscuring one eye, and Winter sat crosslegged, balancing the phone on her feet while she tried to get her hair back in place. 

“Winter,” Ironwood said, his chiseled features appearing on the Scroll. “I wanted to let you know that your recommendations on security protocols for the hard light shields have been…have…uh…”

“Yes, sir?” Winter thought that this was something that could’ve waited, but Ironwood tended to have his own priorities about things, and since he _was_ her superior officer, she had to conform to those. She’d finally gotten her hair to stay in place, but now she was having to fend off Qrow, who was insisting on playing with her breasts. “Sir?” she repeated.

“Um…” Ironwood turned his head and coughed discreetly. “Winter…I…don’t know how to say this, but…”

“Yes, sir?” Winter slapped Qrow’s fingers, which were getting increasingly bolder, rolling a nipple into hardness. 

Ironwood took a deep breath. “Your camera is on.”

At first Winter wasn’t sure what he meant, then the realization hit her—and from the angle she had the camera at, on her feet, Ironwood was looking at her from crotch to face. She screamed, causing Qrow to jerk backwards and fall off the bed, scrabbled for the Scroll, and managed to get the camera shut off. “Oh gods,” she groaned. “General, sir, I am so sorry…”

“That’s…that’s all right.” Ironwood was now trying not to laugh. “The report can wait, Winter. I didn’t know you were…entertaining.” He bit his lip, and got control back. “Was that Qrow with you?”

“As you can tell, Jimmy, we’ve got nothing to hide!” Qrow yelled from his position on the floor. Winter chucked a pillow at him.

Ironwood couldn’t stop it any longer, and started laughing. “I’ll let you get back to it, Winter. Sorry to disturb you.” The line clicked off.

Winter sank down into the covers and put the Scroll aside. “So much for my career,” she sighed.

Qrow climbed back into bed. “Ahh, don’t worry about it, Winter. Jimmy’s not going to take it the wrong way. Could’ve happened to anyone.”

“You’re not the one who just had your commanding officer staring up your vagina.” Winter had flushed bright pink.

“Be kind of hard, since I don’t have one.” He could tell that Winter was starting to get depressed, worried that Ironwood would now think of her as shameless, little more than a prostitute. He caressed her cheek. “C’mon, girl. He’s not like that. Jimmy’s not going to hold it against you. You’re the best he’s got.” Seeing that she was still brooding about it, Qrow slid down, grabbed her right leg, and put it over one shoulder. Winter jumped, taken by surprise, but before she could do anything, his face was practically in her groin. “Let’s just make sure your lady parts are ready for inspection,” he winked at her.

“Qrow!” Winter protested, going even pinker.

Qrow looked over her. “Let’s see here. This is nicely trimmed, according to regulation—“ he ran his fingers through her white pubic hairs. “This looks good here, too.” His fingers ran on either side of her folds. “Temperature test.” To Winter’s consternation, he stuck two fingers inside of her. “Temps check out. Moisture level is a little low. Better check up top here…” He gently peeled back the hood covering her nub. “That checks out too. I’d say you’re tactical, Colonel Schnee.”

Winter was turning red for another reason now, and her breathing had noticeably deepened. “Q-Qrow…”

Qrow examined her clinically. “I’m really concerned about that moisture level, though. Could be a problem for upcoming operations. We’d better introduce additional liquids ASAP.” He ran his tongue over her.

Winter whimpered like a puppy. Qrow grinned up at her, and went to work making sure her moisture levels were above average. He used his hands to get both legs over his shoulders—the better to get to the equipment, he told himself with an inward chortle. The equipment was responding _quite_ adequately, and Winter was beginning to twist, her bottom rising just a little off the bed, her fingers twisting in the covers. _I’ll make you forget all about Jimmy,_ Qrow thought. He loved doing this to her, watching Winter just fall apart into a quivering mass of female arousal. 

“Qrow…Qrow…Qrow,” she began to moan. Her arms began to flail, trying to find something to grab. He knew she was almost there, and knew how to get Winter over the top. Unbidden—which was the last thing Qrow wanted to think about right now, but there it was—he remembered Raven doing a certain trick with her tongue and a cherry stem at the wedding reception for Taiyang, to get him in the right mood. He tried to do the same thing to a certain part of Winter’s anatomy. 

_“Ahh, gods!”_ Winter shouted as she hit the peak. The problem was, both her thighs—muscular and powerful from constant workout and fencing practice—clamped against Qrow’s head and turned. As Winter came off the bed in climax, she now had Qrow in a remarkably good submission hold. Now it was Qrow turning red, but not from arousal or embarassment, rather from a lack of oxygen. He began slapping her thigh, trying to tap out, but Winter was lost in her orgasm and didn’t notice. Finally he managed to slip out of her grasp, and knelt on the bed, gasping, drawing in huge draughts of air.

Winter suddenly noticed. “Qrow!” She sat up, grabbing his shoulders. “Are you okay?” He massaged his neck and nodded. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, for the second time in ten minutes, “sometimes…when…well, you know…”

“It’s okay,” he croaked out, and smiled. “Kind of a compliment, really.”

Winter sighed and put her forehead against his. “Your Semblance?”

“Could be.” He kissed her. “Or you’re just that strong.” She grimaced and stuck out her tongue. “What?”

“Yuck, Qrow! You were just down there, and you kissed me!” Then they both burst into laughter. She cuffed him playfully. “I guess I need to do something about that…I don’t taste all that good.”

“I disagree.”

Winter pushed him down. “May I return the compliment?” She grasped him. “I may need to make an inspection of my own.”

Qrow fluffed the pillows up so he could watch, which was half the fun. “Have at it, Colonel.”

Winter’s inspection evidently didn’t last long, because she took him into her mouth after about ten seconds. Qrow leaned back on the pillows in satisfaction. Truth to tell, Winter was only so-so at this, but like Tai had said one night when the brothers-in-law had gotten drunk together, the worst oral a man could have was still excellent. Again, the image of Raven jumped into Qrow’s mind. _Tai said she was really good at sucking…wait, what the hell, Qrow? Quit thinking about your sister, you sick bastard._

Which was why the sudden appearance of a red portal behind Winter didn’t at first merit much more than casual interest. For one thing, Qrow was pretty sure he was imagining it, and second, he was somewhat occupied by the most beautiful woman in Atlas (in his admittedly biased opinion) using tongue and lips in a most distracting way. It was only when Raven Branwen stepped out of the portal, in full armor, one hand on her sword, that Qrow realized she was real.

_Okay, Qrow,_ he told himself. _Gently does it._ He reached out and grabbed Winter’s head at the top of her bobbing apex, and managed to get himself out of her mouth without her reacting in surprise, which might have involved teeth. “Winter,” he said, “I don’t want to scare you, but my sister is standing right behind you.”

“Excuse me?” Winter exclaimed. She whirled, and it was true.

Raven, for her part, had her mouth open but no sound was coming out. She wore a quizzical expression, like she was confronted with a complicated mathematical formula. Finally, she looked up at Qrow. “I’ve come at a bad time.”

“No shit!” Qrow yelled at her. “What the hell are you doing here?” Winter snatched up some of the covers to hide herself, for all the good that would do—Raven’s point of view upon coming through her portal meant there was little of Winter she _hadn’t_ seen. 

“You know…I don’t remember.” Raven finally found her voice. Then she started smiling. “Well, well, well. Colonel Winter Schnee, banging my brother.” She nodded. “Not bad, Qrow. Not bad at all. Not the type of floozy you usually bring home.”

Winter wasn’t taking that. She got to her feet, still holding the sheet in front of her. “Shut up, bandit. From what I understand, you’re one to talk.”

Raven turned to face her, fingers twitching on the hilt of Omen. “What are you talking about?”

Qrow sat up, putting his hands up. “Ladies, ladies! Before you get ready to kill each other, Raven—what the hell are you doing here? Please!”

Raven gave Winter a I’ll-deal-with-you-later glance and returned her attention to Qrow. “As much as we both hate to admit it, you _are_ my brother, so I’ve come to warn you. I am truly sorry that I arrived at a bad time, but it’s vital you know something.”

“Like you give a damn about him!” Winter shouted.

To Qrow’s surprise, Raven seemed to wilt a little under the Schnee wrath. “Let’s just say I’ve…had some things to think about since Haven.”

_She’s actually showing remorse?_ Qrow thought. He didn’t think his sister had a conscience. “Okay, okay. What is it?”

Before Raven could answer, the lights flickered and went out. Winter’s apartment was on the Atlas Academy grid, so red emergency lighting came on, but then they heard the front door explode off its hinges. Winter rolled to one side, grabbing her sword from the piles of her clothing, thrown aside in earlier passion; Raven turned and slid her sword free, the blade glowing hellishly red. 

_“Tonight you_ _die, Winter Maiden!”_ Cinder Fall stepped into the entrance of the bedroom, her obsidian blades orange, flames licking down the edges. Then she stopped. She looked from fully-clothed Raven, to naked Winter, to very naked Qrow. “Um…what the hell?”

Qrow was always at his best in the face of mortal danger. “What’s it look like?” He spread his hands with a sardonic grin. “It’s an orgy, Cinder Fall. You want in?”

“What…you…” Cinder turned a shade of green. “With your…urk… _sister?”_

Raven wiggled her eyebrows, picking up on her brother’s strategy. “The best kind of incest is twincest!” The attempt to fool the Fall Maiden was somewhat ruined by Winter gagging. 

Cinder took a step back, and they half-expected her to turn and run into the nearby bathroom to vomit, with Winter not far behind. Instead, she grabbed Neo Politan by the front of her shirt. “You idiot! I said I wanted the Winter Maiden, not Winter _Schnee!”_

Neo glanced into the bedroom, jumped when she saw Qrow’s state of undress, looked back and nodded in compliment, then signed at Cinder. To Qrow’s surprise, it was Winter that translated. “She says ‘You just said, “Find Winter,”’ Cinder.”

Cinder massaged her temples with the hilts of her obsidian blades. “Salem give me strength…” She leveled a blade at Winter, who despite being naked had fallen into the resting position of Atlesian rapier fencing. “Are you the Winter Maiden?”

“No!” Winter shot back. She was in training to be, but Cinder didn’t need to know that.

Raven lightly twirled her katana for Cinder’s attention. “As you recall, Cinder, I’m the _Spring_ Maiden. And if you want a rematch…I’m your huckleberry.” She nodded, with a death’s-head grin. “That’s just my game.”

“Some other time,” Cinder sighed. “I’m getting a headache, and really, this isn’t the place for it.”

“That’s true,” Raven admitted.

“All right. We’re leaving.” Cinder gave them an awkward bow. “Sorry to interrupt. Let’s go, Neo. Can’t believe you screwed this up…” Neo gave her the finger, which needed no translation, and the two left. Raven made sure they were gone, then sheathed Omen. “I’ll make sure they don’t come back.” She looked at Winter. “Can’t believe you’re with my brother. He’s a dirty, low-down, untrustworthy bastard.”

Winter smirked back, unafraid even of a Maiden. “It must run in the family.” She tapped the rapier’s blade in her palm. “I love him. Now get lost.”

Raven’s eyebrows raised at that. “Well, I’ll be damned.” She slashed open a portal, but before she stepped through, she nodded at Qrow. “You did good, brother. Summer would be proud.” Then she was gone and the portal vanished.

Qrow got to his feet. “So much for my Semblance not working anymore.” He shivered. “Damn that bitch Cinder.”

Winter walked into the living room and used a glyph to seal the front doorway. “That should hold.” She shivered too. “Well. Care to repair to the shower, Qrow? I feel very dirty all of a sudden, and it'll warm us up.”

“Sure.” He put his arm around her shoulder as she set down the rapier on the bathroom counter. “Did you mean that stuff about loving me?”

Winter kissed him, and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They probably won't actually end up together, but RT, if you're reading this...one, don't sue me, and two, c'mon, man. Give Qrow and Winter a happy ending.
> 
> And I'm not sorry about Raven quoting Doc Holliday.


	68. Wreck the Halls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the eve of the Nondescript Winter Holiday, and everyone's got plans. Intimate, sexy plans. Sort of. Maybe. 
> 
> And when I say everyone, I mean everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, Season's Greetings, and all that good stuff! It's pure coincidence that the next installment of "Love Hurts" would fall on Christmas Eve, but here we are. I decided to have some holiday cheer with this one. Not *every* RWBY character is in this one, but I think I've got enough Rosegarden, White Knight, Renora, Snowbird, and Bumblebee for everyone.

It was the eve of the Nondescript Winter Holiday throughout Remnant. It was a time of coming together as family, a time to exchange gifts, a time for brotherhood, compassion, and good will towards everyone. 

Which is, of course, why Ruby was taking off all her clothes and giggling to herself. 

While wrapping presents for her team earlier in the day (Ruby tended to wait until the last minute on some things, though she was very generous), the thought had occurred to Ruby that she could wrap _herself_ as a present to Oscar. They’d intended to get together for a little intimate exchange of gifts, and other things, that night. The big get together would happen the next day. Weiss had indicated she planned on visiting Jaune, Nora and Ren were naturally together, and if she went to go see Oscar, that would leave the room for Yang and Blake. Everyone would be happy. Tomorrow, she could celebrate with Team RWBY, along with Penny and Pietro, and Qrow and Winter and maybe even General Ironwood. Idly, Ruby wondered what her uncle was doing tonight; she hoped he wasn’t drinking.

Winter Schnee yawned and opened the door to her apartment. She nearly screamed as she was instantly confronted with a stark naked Qrow, with mistletoe tied around his erection. “Hey, Ice Queen.”

“You sick bastard,” Winter said, gripping her chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack! How did you even get into…” Then she remembered. “Right. Turned into a bird.”

“It has its advantages.” He leered at her. “So. Want to kiss under the mistletoe?”

Winter pushed him aside. “You do know that’s poisonous, right?” She closed the door. “I need a drink.”

Qrow chortled. Winter would come around sooner or later. Then he turned pale. “Wait. Mistletoe is _poisonous?_ ”

Ruby checked herself out in the mirror. The only thing she wore was a broad red ribbon, that crisscrossed her breasts, barely hiding her nipples, then plunged down the cleft of her rear, to come up and barely hide her shaved nether parts. It all came together in a bow at her navel. She stuck on an appropriately festive hat on her head. Now all she had to do was put on her robe, sneak across the hall to Oscar’s, and surprise him. 

She’d gotten to the putting-on-the-robe part when Yang and Blake walked in. “Hey, Rubes,” Yang greeted her. “Heading to bed already? It’s early.”

“Nope!” Ruby smiled. “I’m going over to Oscar’s. Don’t worry; I’ll be back in time for prezzies.”

Blake glanced at Yang, but instead the elder sister only smiled back. “Okay. Where’s Weiss?”

“With Jaune.”

“Really? Hmm.” Blake didn’t have to see Yang’s face to know that her thoughts were galloping rapidly bedward.

“Yep!” Ruby made sure the robe was closed, then skipped towards the front door, stopping to give her sister a peck on the cheek. “Don’t wait up.”

“Um…yeah. Have fun.” Yang watched her sister go, then crossed over to her bunk and sat down, pulling off her boots.

Blake sat next to her. “You okay?”

Yang leaned forward. She wasn’t smiling anymore. “Yeah…I mean…I should be.” She sighed. “Blake…it’s hard to see my sister as being grown. I know she’s going over to Oscar to bang him.”

“She _was_ barefoot,” Blake observed.

“I bet she doesn’t have anything on under that robe. And me…all I can remember is Ruby being little, and running downstairs so fast for presents…that’s how we knew what her Semblance was, how fast she ran downstairs for Winter Holiday.” Yang rubbed her forehead. “Blake, I know there’s only three years between us, but I just feel…old. I just can’t imagine the little sister that I used to mess with her hair and read stories to being a woman, with her own guy and having sex and all that.” She flopped back onto the bed. “I mean, I’m not mad or anything. Not anymore. Ruby deserves to be happy, after everything we’ve been through, and Oscar’s a good dude.” She shrugged. “It’s just super weird.”

Blake lay down next to her. She took Yang’s hand in hers. “I guess it would be. But you’re just being a good older sister, watching out for Ruby.” She raised the hand and kissed it. “Well…since Weiss is with Jaune and Ruby is with Oscar, I guess it’s just you and me.” She then kissed Yang on the lips. “Maybe we could play some games of our own?”

Yang’s smile came back. “Oh, hell yeah. Let’s do it!” She jumped out of the bunk.

“Oh, Jaune…it’s lovely.” Winter admired the snow globe of Atlas Academy. “This must have cost you some lien.”

“It’s all good,” Jaune insisted. “Since they made us full-time Huntsmen and Huntresses, I’m actually getting paid for once.” He held up the new hoodie. “Besides, I’m glad I spent some money. You spent some on me.” 

“Winter arranged it so I can still access _some_ Schnee funds. I’m still pretty well-to-do.” She kissed him. “This could’ve waited until the morning, Jaune.”

“It could’ve,” he agreed, “but there was something else.” He handed her a small gift. Weiss raised an eyebrow and quickly unwrapped it. She blinked. “Peppermint flavored body lotion?” She narrowed her eyes at him, her demeanor going from warm sun to glacier ice in a moment. “Jaune Arc! Do you mean to imply that you want to slather me in this and then lick every inch of my body so that I taste like a candy cane? That’s disgusting.”

“Uh, w-well…” Jaune stammered. He’d known that he was taking a chance with Weiss, who tended to be pretty vanilla with their lovemaking—glyphs, roleplaying and the occasional misuse of Semblances aside—but he also didn’t want to become boring to her. 

Weiss got to her feet, stared down at him, then reached up and peeled off the straps of her dress. It was a white affair that left her arms bare and ended below the knees, silver and shimmering. The dress dropped to the floor, and Jaune’s jaw dropped. Weiss wore nothing beneath it. “You’d better get started,” she said huskily.

Ren held Nora gently. Neither wore anything either, but they had started their lovemaking earlier than the others. Ren had taken Nora to an expensive restaurant in Atlas, which cost him a great deal of his pay, but it had been worth it, as far as he was concerned. Both of them ate their food slowly, with more variety and quantity than either had ever known. Both Ren and Nora knew what it was like to go hungry.

When they came back to the dorms and got into the room, Ren had turned down the lights. Slowly, intimately, he and Nora had undressed each other, then got into bed, facing each other. They’d kissed and caressed, until finally Ren had gone on top. Their lovemaking had been gentle, more gentle than their friends would think Nora capable of—Team RWBY was under the general impression that sex between Ren and Nora began with Nora chokeslamming Ren into bed. They had taken their time, spinning it out, making the final release all that much sweeter. Now she was nestled in his arms, a smile on her face, satisfied. “Ren?” she spoke into the silence.

“Yes, Nora?”

She reached up and touched his nose. “Boop.”

Ren laughed softly. It had been their code for a long time, when neither wanted to just come out and admit that they loved each other, and had since that day they’d hidden from the Nuckalevee. “Do you ever get tired of me?” he asked.

“Never.” Ren was about to reply, when Nora held up a hand. She got up, knelt on her pillow, and cupped her hand against the wall. Then she muffled a giggle. “What is it?” he asked.

“It’s Jaune and Weiss!” Nora put her ear closed to the wall. “Oh my gods…” she whispered in amazement.

Ren was not _that_ above the fray. He got up and put his ear to the wall too. Weiss was moaning, and not remotely trying to hide the fact. She was also begging for Jaune to treat her nipples like they were candy canes, and from the noises she was making, he was doing his best. Ren thought for a moment, then pulled away from the wall to whisper to Nora. “Jaune said he had to make a stop in Mantle yesterday after our patrol. It was one of those ‘adult novelty’ shops. I thought I saw through the plastic bag--some sort of edible body lotion.”

“Candy canes,” Nora mused, then snickered. “He got _peppermint_ body lotion.” She settled back down to the covers. Nora Valkyrie was a lot of things, but she wasn’t going to listen in on two of her best friends having sex. Weiss and Jaune wouldn’t do that to her. 

“It seems Jaune is more inventive than we gave him credit for,” Ren said.

“Yeah. Can’t anyone have normal sex anymore? Weirdos."

“Nora.” She looked over at him. He touched her nose. “Boop.”

Oscar carefully applied some cologne, then smoothed the covers on the bed. When Ruby had asked if he wanted to get together tonight, he was under no illusions what she actually wanted. And that was fine—Oscar could certainly think of worse Winter Holiday presents than a naked and panting Ruby Rose. And best of all, she could spend the night. He couldn’t think of anything that would interrupt such a perfect winter night in Atlas.

And if Oscar had been older and wiser, or Ozpin had time to say something, he would’ve realized that it was _always_ a bad idea to tempt fate. Or a sometimes cruel fanfiction author.

Suddenly the room, which had the lights turned down as well, was suffused with purple light. Oscar whirled, only to be slammed back onto the bed with a wall of force.

“Hello, Oscar,” Salem purred, staring down at him, a devilish smile on her face. “Or should I say…Ozma?”

Ruby had a bad feeling something was going to interrupt her and Oscar—which happened with almost depressing frequency—so she had quickly padded up and down the halls, looking in nooks, crannies and corners for marauding Grimm, heterochromatic-eyed assassins, or well-meaning-but-nosy androids before she had stealthfully crept towards Oscar’s room. As a result, a journey that should’ve taken thirty seconds took almost five minutes. She was at his room door when she suddenly realized she’d forgotten his Winter Holiday present. “Dammit,” Ruby whispered, and quickly rushed back to her dorm room. As such, she missed the flash of purple from under Oscar’s door that heralded the arrival of Salem.

Ruby almost opened the door, then had a mental image of her sister and Blake naked, slobbering over each other, or Blake on all fours, yowling, while Yang pounded into her with the strap-on they didn’t think Ruby or Weiss knew about. Ruby shook herself; that was really not something she should be thinking about. Instead, she knocked on the door.

“Come in!” she heard Blake call out.

Ruby walked in, and was taken aback. Far from Yang or Blake having sex or even being naked, they were in their pajamas, playing a game. “’Sup,” Yang said. “Oscar throw you out or something?”

“No!” Ruby snapped, a little miffed at the implication that Oscar would ever throw _her_ out. “I just forgot his present.” She grabbed it off the desk. 

“What is it?” Yang might be feeling the older sister at the thought of Ruby and Oscar, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t mess with her younger sibling a little. “Peppermint flavored body lotion? You going to be Oscar’s candy cane?”

“Oh, shut up,” Ruby groused, and stalked out the door, Yang laughing behind her. At Blake’s look, Yang spread her hands. “What? I can’t give my sister some shit every now and then?”

Blake shrugged. “I guess that’s all right.” She pointed to the gameboard. “By the way, you’re sitting on Atlas Academy. That’ll be 200 lien.”

“Dammit!” Yang scowled at Blake and handed over the cash.

Oscar backed up on the bed. His hand went for the Long Memory, but Salem sent it flying out of reach with a gesture. He faced her defiantly. “I won’t tell you how to activate the Relic, Salem. I don’t care if you kill me. Torture me, beat me up, zap me with your magic…I’m not talking.”

Salem gave him a confused look. “What…oh.” She shook her head. Oscar abruptly realized that her white hair was not done up in its usual halo of braids, but worn loose, down around her shoulders. “I actually hadn’t thought of that.”

“Then what are you here for?” Oscar demanded.

Salem fluttered her fingers. Her robe seemed to simply vanish into thin air. “I believe this is what your generation refers to as a ‘booty call.’” She pushed up her impressive breasts. “Am I not more desirable than that flat-chested Ruby girl?”

Oscar would have to admit Salem was a knockout, for an undead Grimm Queen, but while Ozma might have been all over that, he wasn’t. “Um…look, I wanted to tell you, I’m only sixteen…”

“So?” Salem replied.

“And, well, you’re about 10,000 years old…”

“More like 25,000. And again, so?” She walked closer, her fingers gesticulating. To Oscar’s horror, his belt flew out of its loops, the button to his pants came off, and the zipper eased down, all without her even touching him. “It just means you do not _know_ what ecstasy I can put you in, Oscar.”

Oscar found he couldn’t move. Purple bands appeared around his wrists, ankles and waist. He tried to yell for help, but no sound came out. “Ah, ah!” Salem waggled a finger at him. “We don’t want anyone to hear what I’m doing to you. Not yet.” She moved her hands towards her, and Oscar felt his pants and underwear being pulled down to his knees. “Oh my. Not bad,” she remarked. Then her eyes fell on a long package (not that one), giftwrapped and lying on the bed. Salem chuckled. “You naughty, naughty children. What is this, now?” She reached down and picked it up, as Oscar struggled vainly against his bonds. “Is this what I think it is? Were you planning on having some fun with toys tonight, Oscar? The vibrating kind?” She caressed it. “Perhaps I should…break it in for Miss Rose.” She began unwrapping it.

Ruby knocked on Oscar’s door again. There was no answer. She put her head to the door. She thought she could hear someone talking, but it sounded muffled. _Maybe he’s on his Scroll to his aunt,_ she thought. _Wishing her a happy holiday, or something._

She couldn’t wait in the hall. The longer she waited in the hall, the greater the chance of the aforementioned Grimm attack or the well-meaning warbot showing up. “There will be no locked doors in _our_ relationship,” Ruby declared, and punched the door code into the lock. Oscar had given it to her for emergencies.

Salem unwrapped the package, looking down at the bound Oscar and licking her lips. She pulled off the box top, glanced down…and almost dropped it. “Oh,” she said—in a surprisingly gentle and melancholy tone.

It was a rose, done in spun glass. Oscar had borrowed the money from Ironwood, but when the general heard who it was for, had gladly let Oscar have the lien as a gift. 

At that point, the door opened. Ruby stepped in, grinning, but her smile faded quickly at the sight of Oscar, pants down around his knees and held to the bed by magic, and a naked Salem standing over him. She almost hurled her present at the witch, but realized it was hardly a weapon. Instead, she opened her eyes a little wider, preparing to unleash the one weapon she had that _would_ hurt Salem, her silver eyes.

“Wait,” Salem said—not commanded, but said in a normal tone. “Ruby Rose. This is exactly what it looks like, but…” She sighed. “I cannot do this. Not even me. Not tonight.” She gently set the box down on the bed and waved her hands. Oscar’s bonds disappeared. “You deserve one night. I will not take that away from you.” Her robe reappeared, clothing her again. She looked at Ruby, and to the huntress’ surprise, there were tears in those red eyes. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Ruby. For love is fleeting.” Then she was gone in a puff of purple smoke.

“Oscar!” Ruby yelled, and ran to the side of the bed. She hugged him, kissed him frantically. “Oh gods! Are you okay? Was she here for the Relic?”

“Um…no, actually,” Oscar admitted.

“What was she here for then—“ Then she looked down, and frowned. “Great. That old bitch wanted to screw you. Wonderful. Most powerful being on Remnant, and she can’t get laid somewhere else?”

“Don’t be too hard on her,” Oscar said, pulling up his pants, and knew that at least part of that had to be some hidden part of Ozma’s soul talking. “I guess she’s lonely.”

“Yeah? Well, she can be lonely somewhere else.” Then Ruby saw the rose. Her hands went to her mouth. “Is…is that for…for me?”

“Sure is.” Oscar handed it to her. It wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to present it, but Ruby was here now. 

Ruby started to cry. “Oh, Oscar. It’s so beautiful.”

“Just like you.” Oscar didn’t know if _that_ was from Ozma too, but didn’t care, because it was true.

“I…Oscar…I didn’t get you anything like this…I just got you a teddy bear…with a scythe…”

Oscar wondered where Ruby had gotten a teddy bear with a scythe, but that wasn’t important right now. “It’s okay. I got the best kind of gift right here in front of me.” He got up off the bed, holding his pants up with one hand while he put the other on her shoulder.

Ruby laughed and dried her eyes. “You’re a smooth-talking rascal, you know that? Ozpin’s been giving you lessons.” She stepped back, and dropped the robe. “I brought you another present, though.”

“Whoa,” Oscar gasped. It was quite simply the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. His pants fell out of a nerveless hand. Ruby looked down and giggled as Oscar rose to the occasion.

Hours later, not a creature was stirring, not even Penny. (Well, she _was,_ but she was confining her patrol to Mantle. She didn’t want to interrupt anything her friends might be doing.) Qrow had indeed managed to convince Winter to kiss under the mistletoe, Nora and Ren had another round and were snuggled together, Oscar had unwrapped his present and then some, and Blake and Yang…had played some more games and gone to bed. They were indeed naked, but they were just cuddling each other, just glad of a quiet night to themselves.

Weiss was asleep, curled up next to Jaune, the smell of peppermint all through the room. Suddenly, Weiss felt someone lightly touch her shoulder. She awoke, and muffled a gasp of surprise. Pyrrha Nikos, softly aglow and mostly transparent, hovered above her. She smiled down and waved. “Hello!” she whispered. “Happy Winter Holiday!”

“Pyrrha?” Weiss whispered back, rubbing her eyes. “It’s good to see you, but…am I dreaming? What are you doing here?”

Pyrrha couldn’t meet her eyes. She touched her fingers together in embarassment. “Well…if it would be okay with you…do you think I could…um…if it’s okay…could I…”

Weiss gave her a sardonic smile. “You want to borrow my body and have both of us give Jaune another Winter Holiday present.” Pyrrha nodded quickly. Weiss didn’t know ghosts could blush, but the former Invincible Girl certainly was. Weiss stretched out. “Oh, why not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that day, Salem's heart grew three sizes. Nah, not really. She probably just went back to her castle and got hammered with Emerald.
> 
> Hard to believe that a year ago at this time, I was putting the finishing touches on the Penny/Ruby chapter of "One Night in Atlas." It sure has been one hell of a year since.


	69. I Wanna Sex You Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang can't sleep. Neither can Blake. And since they're alone, they decide to fool around. Besides, Yang wants to try something new.
> 
> Because that never ends badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maswartz reminded me that this was Chapter 69, so what better way to commemorate such a chapter than to have the characters try the ol' 69? As soon as he mentioned it, I knew it was time for another episode of the Lusty Adventures of Blake and Yang. 
> 
> Originally, this was going to be very similar to the last chapter ("Wreck the Halls") where everyone tries a 69, but I decided to cut the Weiss/Jaune bit out. They're clearly enjoying that peppermint body lotion, anyway--yes, this is a sequel of sorts to Chapter 68.

“Uggh,” Yang Xiao Long groaned, trying to keep her voice down. She and Blake were alone in the room: for the second night in a row, Weiss had gone to see Jaune and Ruby had gone to see Oscar. Blake and Yang had shaken their heads at their friends’ obvious desire to go have mad raging sex with their respective partners; Weiss, who was supposed to be the staid traditionalist, had been jumpy and nervous all day, not to mention smelling strangely of peppermint. She had barely put Myrtenaster away when she was gone to Jaune's, flushed and clearly trying to contain herself.

Yang thought Ruby was getting pretty bold too: they had taken the Amity run that day, and Ruby had spent most of it texting Oscar. Given the blush on her cheeks (which was _not_ from the cold) and the occasional heavy breathing, Yang guessed—correctly—that the texts were NSFW. She considered doing the same to Blake, but Yang’s attempts at sexting usually ended in the Faunus laughing hysterically at what Yang considered sexy talk. By the time they had gotten back, Ruby was as excited as a long-tailed cat in a room of rocking chairs, as Taiyang liked to say on occasion. Yang had decided to yank her sister around a little, daring her to give Oscar a 69. By the utterly perplexed look on Ruby’s face, it was clear the younger sibling had no idea what her older, more experienced (kind of) sister was talking about. 

She and Blake were now alone, but Yang was tired from the Amity run, while Blake had spent her day helping a strangely exhausted Jaune chase children around Mantle’s crosswalks. The two girls had gone to bed. Yang was sure she would fall asleep, but sleep had given her the middle finger, and her brain simply would not shut down. 

And one reason was that Yang found herself thinking about doing a 69 herself. 

She and Blake had never tried it, which was odd, considering the weird sex positions they _had_ tried. They had tried scissoring, but that had ended up with them kicking each other in the face and then wrestling. They had tried spanking, but Yang hit too hard and Blake didn’t hit hard enough. They had tried a threesome with Sun, but they had been interrupted, which happened with such regularity that Blake wondered out loud if the author was overusing that trope. (Yang wasn’t sure what Blake meant by that; it implied they were in one of Blake’s trashy novels or one of her bad fanfics or something.) But they’d never tried a 69. 

Yang gave up. Either she woke Blake up and they gave it a shot, or Yang was going to have to get hands-on with herself, and that wouldn’t be as much fun. “Hey, Blakey!” Yang whispered loudly.

“No need to whisper,” Blake said in a normal voice. “I’m awake.”

“Oh, sorry,” Yang said. “Was I keeping you up?”

“No,” Blake replied. “Just can’t sleep for some reason.”

Yang rolled out of her bunk and landed nimbly on her feet next to Blake’s. “Me neither.” She grinned. “You want to fool around? Weiss and Rubes won’t be back until morning…if then.”

Blake shrugged and smiled back. “Why not?” She threw back the covers. “Hop in.”

Yang held up her artificial hand. “Actually…you want to try something new?”

“The last time we tried something new we ended up in a threesome with Sun.”

“Nothing that weird. How about a 69?” It occurred to Yang that Blake might not know what that was. “You know, where the two partners—“

“I know what it is. It happens sometimes in _Ninjas of Love._ ” Blake blushed. “And Adam and I tried it once.”

“Did it work?”

“Sort of. He…well, he didn’t last too long.” She looked embarrassed. “It was early in our relationship.”

Yang smirked. “Well, _I_ don’t have that problem. Let’s do it.” She stuck her head into Blake’s bunk. “There should be enough room.”

“We could just do it on the floor.”

Yang thumbed towards the door. “Yeah, and the moment we get in position, Ruby will come through the door demanding I tell her what a 69 is, or Weiss will have forgotten her candy cane sex toys or something.”

“She _did_ smell strange today,” Blake mused. “But good point. I think we can manage.”

Yang, snickering lewdly, quickly pulled off her shorts and tank top and tossed them onto her bunk. Blake got out of her yukata and panties, and carefully folded them, putting them aside. “Bottom or top?” she asked Yang.

“You go on top. That way I can see the Bellabooty.”

Blake rolled her eyes. “Why you are so fascinated by my butt I’ll never know.”

“Because it’s like sitting in sugar.” Yang wiggled her eyebrows. “You know, because you have a—“

“—sweet ass,” Blake finished. “Yes, I know. You’ve told me that before.” She moved over so Yang could flop onto her bunk and lay down. Then she drew the privacy curtain. “Let’s see…” Blake carefully got a leg over Yang, careful not to crack her in the skull with her knee, then got to all fours. Even though she was shorter than her lover and it was dark, she found she was perfectly positioned: right in front of her was the soft fan of blond curls at the junction of Yang’s thighs, and those wonderfully toned legs of her friend. Blake hadn’t actually been thinking about sex ten minutes before, but now she was getting turned on.

“Uh, Blakey?”

“Yes, Yang?”

“I, uh, hate to say this, but I can’t see very well.”

“Oh, sorry!” Blake sometimes forgot that the rest of Team RWBY couldn’t see as well as she could in the dark. “Over on your left is the reading light.”

“Got it.” There was a little bit of fumbling around, then the bunk was lit by soft light. “Ah, there we go.” Blake shuddered as she felt Yang’s hands on her legs. “Wait, hold on.” Blake waited patiently as Yang moved some pillows to get her head in a better position. “Okay, I’m ready.” Blake felt hands again. “Man, this is cozy. We should’ve thought about this sooner.”

“Are you going to do something, Xiao Long, or are we going to talk about it all night?” Blake found she was getting a little impatient, then she let out a _“Yeep!”_ when Yang, with no warning, stuck a metal finger in her. “Hey!”

“Quit your bitching and push down a little.” Blake did as she was told, and bit back a little whine as she felt Yang’s tongue on her, finding the nooks and crannies of her. “Ahem,” Yang cleared her throat, and Blake understood. She involuntarily swallowed and bent down, using her hands to balance herself by gripping those smooth thighs; Yang helped by opening up a bit. With a little hesitancy, Blake bent down and ran her tongue down her lover’s slit. The blonde jumped a bit, and Blake smiled. _“Hmmm,”_ she hummed as she worked, especially as Yang’s hands found the aforementioned Bellabooty and began playing there, too.

Blake teased at Yang’s clitoris a little, and Yang’s legs spasmed together, gripping Blake by the ears--both sets. “Yang! Not so hard!” she half-yelled.

“Sorry,” Yang apologized. “Just feels really good.”

Blake didn’t answer, but went back to what she was doing. She had to leave off for a moment as Yang worked her way to the base of her folds, which felt very, very good, and a groan escaped her lips, followed by a gasp as Yang’s metal finger did some teasing of its own in the cleft of Blake’s rear end. “Oh gods, Yang,” Blake moaned, involuntarily pushing down. Yang raised up a bit and kissed both cheeks of the Bellabooty. “Don’t you dare fart,” she told Blake, then slid down the pillows to get back to those superbly moist nether lips. 

Blake did the same, but Yang’s words got her to giggling. The more she thought about it, the funnier it got. It made no sense; maybe she was more tired than she felt, or just the commanding tone Yang had used was funny, or suddenly Blake just felt silly. Either way, she was soon laughing so hard that she had her face buried in those blond curls, shaking now not with desire but with hilarity.

Yang stopped with her licking to look the length of her partner, which at the moment was just Blake’s breasts pressed against Yang’s stomach. “Blake, what the hell…” But Blake’s laughter was contagious, and soon Yang was laughing as well. “Dammit, Blake!” she yelled, then snorted, which just made the Faunus convulse even more. Finally, Blake had to roll off Yang, holding her stomach. “I’m…I’m so sorry!” she gasped, in between giggles. “Just the way…you said it…oh gods, Yang, I’m so sorry…it’s just too damn funny…”

Yang rolled to one side, holding her head against her chin, raising an eyebrow Weiss-style. Blake was red in the face now, trying to stop laughing, but that only made it worse. Yang waited until her lover was finally able to catch her breath. “Fart,” she said, and Blake dissolved into hysterics again. Yang shook her head. “You’re messed up, girl.”

“I don’t _want_ you to do that,” Blake struggled out. “That’s disgusting! But the way you…dammit, I’m sorry…”

Yang sighed, then grinned. She grabbed an unresisting Blake and pulled her back down to the bed. She held her tight and positioned herself over the Faunus. Blake’s laughter died out somewhat, as she wondered what Yang was going to do—it certainly appeared that Yang was going to finish what she started, and that was not a laughing matter. Instead, Yang lowered herself to Blake’s flat stomach and blew raspberries on it, making gross noises and causing Blake to start screaming in hilarity all over again. She was kicking her feet against the bottom of Yang’s bunk and slapping the bed, gasping for air. Finally Yang stopped blowing on her stomach, and instead rested herself between Blake’s breasts. “You’re weird,” she said.

Blake wiped her streaming eyes. “You started it.”

Yang chortled. “Hell, Blakey. I didn’t mean to.”

Blake pushed some of Yang’s hair away. “I know. I’m sorry I ruined it.” 

Yang pulled herself forward and kissed her friend. “Nah. I love hearing you laugh. There for awhile, you didn’t do that too much.”

“Neither did you.” Blake kissed her back. “I love you, Yang Xiao Long.”

Yang shrugged. “Yeah, well, I guess you’re okay.”

Blake frowned. “Excuse me?”

Yang pulled herself up a bit, leaned down, and smooched both nipples. “Just kidding. I love you too, Blake Belladonna.” She licked her lips seductively. “And now, Blake, I’m going to eat you out like you’re a pizza and it’s dollar night at the parlor."

It was Blake’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Not the best analogy.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Yang bent down to drag her tongue across Blake’s navel, causing the Faunus to shake agreeably. “You’re spicy like pepperoni. You’re sweet like pineapple.”

“I hope I don’t smell like anchovies.”

Yang, who was getting back to where she’d started, exploded into laughter. Now she was the one who fell forward, burying her face in Blake’s groin, snorting and cackling. Blake sighed and chuckled. “We’re never going to get this finished, are we?”

Ruby and Oscar were both in their underwear, sitting crosslegged on Oscar’s bed. “I thought _you_ would know,” she told him.

Oscar spread his hands in confusion. “Why would _I_ know what a 69 is?”

“Duh! You’re a guy! Guys know weird stuff like that.”

“Ruby, I’ve led something of a sheltered life on my aunt’s farm.” He grabbed his Scroll. “I guess I could look it up on the internet…”

Ruby slapped her forehead. Why hadn’t _she_ thought of that? _Because you’re still new at this sex thing, that’s why._ She peered over Oscar’s shoulder as he put the words in the search bar, and went over to images. “Doesn’t really show much.”

“Turn safe-search off.” Ruby didn’t want to tell him how she knew that.

“Oh, right.” Oscar did that and searched again. Both pairs of eyes widened at what came up. “Oh,” Oscar said in amazement. “Oh, wow.”

“Er…huh,” Ruby added. “That’s…yeah.” He closed the Scroll. She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Oscar, um…I don’t know if I’m that flexible.”

Oscar gave it some thought. “I think we could do it.”

“But what if…what if you got all excited and pushed too far into my mouth and I gagged and barfed all over you?” Ruby turned a little green at that. She’d always been a little afraid that would happen. She wondered if it had ever happened to Weiss, but that was not something you asked Weiss Schnee in mixed company. Or anywhere else. And the last time she’d asked Weiss for sex advice, they’d ended up ruining a banana, and Ruby felt stupid. 

Oscar had to admit Ruby had a point. “So…no 69 then.” 

“I don’t think we’re quite ready for that yet.” Ruby kissed his shoulder. “How about, um, just doing it…normally? You on top?” She looked up at him with those wide silver eyes that Oscar was pretty sure he could fall into. “I don’t want you to think I’m boring or anything…”

Oscar kissed her. “You’ll never be that, Ruby Rose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I subscribe to the notion that Ruby is nowhere near as naive about sex as she's often portrayed, probably she *would* know what a 69 is. Then again, she might not, so we'll go with whatever's funny. And why is Jaune exhausted? Weiss and Ghost Pyrrha were double-teaming the poor bastard all night.
> 
> Keep those ideas and reviews coming! And if you don't mind and you're a fan...maybe leave a review or two for "RWBY Wings." That story's getting a little lonely.


	70. Itsy Bitsy Spider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren is settling into a warm shower when Nora decides to join him. They're supposedly not together-together, but Nora's going to change that...and she knows just how to convince Ren.
> 
> Unfortunately, someone else has decided to join them as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Hard to believe that I've been writing this fanfic for a year now, which I would've never guessed when I started it. I'm just happy everyone is still reading this and still like it. 70 chapters--wow. I know at some point, I'm going to have to declare victory and end "Love Hurts," but not for awhile yet. Anyhow, what better way to start off the new year (which I really, really, REALLY hope will be better than the last) than with some cute 'n' sweet Renora?

Lie Ren walked into the shower and switched on the hot water. It had been a long day at Beacon Academy, and he looked forward to getting the sweat off. A light snack, then a few chapters of the textbook for Professor Peach, and a good night’s rest; tomorrow was going to be another long day. Still, this was what he’d signed up for at Beacon, and Ren knew the training would serve him well in his career as a Huntsman. 

He heard someone come into the bathroom. “I’m in the shower,” he called out. Team JNPR’s bathroom was co-ed, so he and Jaune were careful not to end up in the bathroom at the same time as Nora or Pyrrha. He heard the door close, so whoever it was had left. “I’ll be out just as soon as I can.” It was times like this that Ren wished their dorm room came with two bathrooms instead of one.

The shower curtain was jerked aside, revealing a grinning and very nude Nora Valkyrie. “No, you won’t,” she said, and stepped into the shower with him, pulling the curtain closed.

“Nora, what are you doing?” Ren asked, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

She gave an evil chuckle. “I’m a dirty girl, Ren. Dirty, dirty, dirty.” 

Ren involuntarily swallowed. “Ah, Nora, remember what we were talking about the other day…you know, that we weren’t together-together…”

Nora stuck out her tongue. “We’re not.”

“Then what are you doing naked in the shower and telling me you’re a dirty girl?”

She shrugged. “Saving water?”

“Nora,” Ren said sternly.

“Oh, Ren, c’mon. Let’s have some fun.” She kissed his nose. “So we’re not together-together. We can still fool around.”

“That is the very _definition_ of together-together.”

Nora looked at Ren, then shrugged again. “Okay, have it your way. No fooling around. But since I’m here, I might as well shower too.” And with that, she turned her back to him and stuck her head under the shower. She grabbed a bar of soap and began lathering up. 

_Oh no,_ Ren thought with consternation. Lie Ren’s Semblance might have been calming one’s emotions, but it would’ve taken a man with nerves of steel not to watch Nora wash herself—and Ren wasn’t that man. He watched as Nora soaped her arms, then her sides, then her back. Swinging a hammer gave Nora some impressive musculature, but without compromising her beauty. Others might consider Nora Valkyrie to be more cute than beautiful, especially when compared to her statuesque roommate. Ren, however, considered her to be the most attractive girl in all of Remnant. Nora hummed to herself as she soaped under her breasts, then over them; though it was steaming hot in the shower, Ren watched as her pert nipples stiffened under the attention. Then she soaped up and down her thighs, slowly and carefully washing each leg. She never looked at him; it was as if Ren suddenly didn’t exist and wasn’t six inches from her. The soap went over her abdominals and then down over the tuft of red curls where her legs met. Ren quickly covered himself, but Nora still acted like he wasn’t there. She washed her face, then stood under the shower, letting the water wash away the suds.

Only then did she look at him. She grabbed the shampoo bottle and opened it. “Oh, Ren,” she whispered, barely audible over the spray of water. She made sure he was looking at her now. Then Nora smashed her hands together with the shampoo in between. The fluid shot out of the bottle in white streams, coating Nora’s face, neck and breasts. She licked her lips and gave a breathy moan.

Once more, it would’ve taken a man of iron to resist the spectacle of a moaning Nora coated with pearly strands slowly making their way down her naked body, and the only thing that was iron about Ren in that moment was his penis. He knocked the shampoo out of her hands and seized her, pulling him to her, forcing her lips open with his own. Nora felt his heat trapped between them and thought _Yes! Totally worked! You’re a genius, Yang!_

“So you want to be together-together?” she murmured into his neck, as he kissed his way down hers. Ren said nothing but a kind of growl. He turned and pushed her against the far wall of the shower, his hands seizing a double handful of her behind as he tried to press her even more into him. His lips found her nipples and Nora smiled, letting her head drop back against the wall, as the water cascaded down both of them. Her hands ran down his lean back, over his rear, feeling the muscles tense. “You can put it in, Renny,” she said softly, bringing his head back up to kiss him. “It’s okay.”

Ren somehow managed to get a modicum of control back. “Nora,” he breathed, “you’re a virgin…”

“Not for much longer,” she smiled.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

She kissed him tenderly. “You could never hurt me, Ren.” Which, she reflected idly, was probably true. Not much _could_ hurt Nora, and she was pretty certain she was just as tough inside as out. She put her forehead against his. “Ren, I want you. I’ve always wanted you. Please, Ren. I want to feel you….inside me.”

Ren nodded. His erection was throbbing insistently against her stomach. There was the problem that she was shorter than he was. He could lift her up, but Ren was not so far gone with lust that he didn’t realize that courted disaster. The shower tiles were already slick, and he certainly didn’t want their first time to end with a trip to the Vale emergency room. 

Nora, however, was a step ahead. With one last kiss, she trailed her fingers down his chest and gently pushed him aside. She took two steps, braced herself against the shower entrance, and bent over. She winked at him over her shoulder and nodded, a clear invitation to take her from behind.

“I don’t…not like this,” he said. “I want to see you.”

“You _are_ seeing me,” she insisted, and beckoned him forward by spreading her legs, bracing those against the shower stall. What little resolve Ren had managed to build up collapsed worse than Atlesian military tactics, and _he_ took a step forward. Nora wiggled her butt to give him a little more incentive. “C’mon, Ren...I need it…I need it bad…” She’d read that in one of Blake’s smut books, and though it sounded stupid at the time, in the heat of the moment, it sounded perfectly romantic now. 

Ren, whose eyes were following those two globes like he was hypnotized, thrust forward…and missed. Instead, his manhood slid over her womanhood without penetration. He cursed himself for being a clumsy fool, but Nora gave a delighted squeal; since both were slippery, that made it more fun. “Don’t tease me!” she laughed, and tried to look underneath herself as her hands scrabbled for him. “Give me that, Ren…I gotta do everything around _heeerreee!”_

Nora’s sudden scream mystified Ren: he hadn’t entered her, and although friction against a certain part of Nora’s anatomy was probably arousing, he didn’t think she was _that_ sensitive. Further mystifying was why Nora suddenly shot out of the shower so fast that one might think she’d stolen Ruby’s Semblance. Ren went from being one second from paradise to staring at his girlfriend, who was naked, wet, and standing on the toilet, pointing at something on the bottom of the shower. “ _Reeen!”_ she screamed.

Ren followed her finger and saw that it was a spider. Its body was about as long as his thumb, a species he recognized as being common throughout Vale—but though it was relatively large, it wasn’t poisonous, nor was it aggressive. At the moment, in fact, the spider was floundering around in the quarter of an inch of water on the shower floor, trying desperately not to drown or be stepped on by humans. “Nora, it’s just a spider.” Nora was shaking her head in terror, not even able to scream again. She did not fear Grimm—a Beowulf merited little more than a laugh, and she’d giggled out loud fighting a Nevermore—but spiders absolutely terrified her. Finally she got enough breath to shout “ _Kill ittttt!”_

Ren really didn’t want to kill the spider. For one thing, he was stark naked, which meant there wasn’t a lot in the way of available weapons. He could stomp it, but that would make a mess. The way the spider was skittering around, it clearly was trying to get purchase with its eight legs long enough to run away. Ren was also the type of person whose devotion to preserving life extended to insects; he’d sooner shoo a fly out the window than try to smash it. With that in mind, Ren tried simply splashing the spider out of the shower so it would scuttle off. Nora looked at him as if he was out of his mind.

Suddenly, the door to the bathroom burst open, admitting Pyrrha Nikos—in full armor, having just come back from training Jaune, with Milo in hand. She had entered the dorm room just in time to hear Nora scream in terror, and assuming (understandably) that her friend and Ren were under attack, acted accordingly. She had, at least, opened the bathroom door instead of smashing through it. Once in, she assumed the fighting stance of a Mistrali warrior. “Ren, Nora, what is it?” Her eyes darted around for the threat—a Grimm, perhaps, or Roman Torchwick. Then she noticed Nora was completely naked, standing on the toilet, followed quickly by noticing that Ren was _also_ naked, and hard as Professor Oobleck’s history course. Pyrrha went beet red at the sight and dropped her eyes, so as not to further embarrass her friends.

About that time, Ren succeeded in getting the spider out of the shower. It landed on mostly dry tile, and thankful to be spared drowning or being boiled alive in the hot water, turned and ran as fast as its eight legs would carry it, away from the two giant humans. The spider abruptly realized that another giant human blocked its path. Spiders were not particularly intelligent, but even this one understood that it was now trapped by beings twenty times its size. And like most creatures when trapped, the spider decided it would die fighting. It stopped just short of Pyrrha and raised its front legs in a challenge.

Pyrrha’s eyes widened. Milo fell to the bathroom floor and she flattened herself against the wall. Pyrrha could have easily crushed the spider to oblivion in with the crash of an armored boot, but what her teammates didn’t know was that the Invincible Girl of Mistral was _also_ deathly afraid of spiders. Death Stalkers didn’t bother her, Ursa barely merited a deep breath, and if she knew about her, Pyrrha would’ve regarded Salem herself as a dangerous but manageable foe. But spiders scared the living hell out of her, especially big ones that wanted to fight.

Ren grabbed a towel and stepped out of the shower, accepting the fact that one of his best friends would see him naked and (now semi) erect, though Pyrrha’s attention was riveted on the spider. He readied the towel to snap at it, hoping he could kill it with one shot, and not accidentally launch it into Pyrrha—which would probably cause her to suffer a heart attack.

“Hey, guys, what’s going on in here—“ Jaune Arc, who had been trailing behind Pyrrha a bit, had walked into the dorm room to see the bathroom open and steam from the shower billowing out, and headed in that direction. He didn’t see any of his teammates—Nora and Ren were hidden by one wall, while Pyrrha was cornered out of sight. He did see the spider, though. “Ew,” he remarked, raised his boot, and stepped down hard. The spider died a valiant if messy death. “Hate those things…” Jaune’s voice trailed off as he saw Nora (naked), Ren (naked), and Pyrrha (pale with terror). “Oookay,” he said, retreating back out of the bathroom. “I’m just going to go back in here…and take my armor off.”

Pyrrha bent and picked up Milo, then also left, detouring around the remains of the arachnid. “So will I. Sorry,” she said, and closed the door. 

Ren straightened up. “I’m sorry as well, Nora.” He grabbed a handful of toilet paper and motioned Nora off the toilet. She jumped down and watched as he gathered up and flushed what was left of the spider. He sighed. “We never get a break, do we?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, booping his nose, relieved beyond measure. “I think I’ve gotten all dirty again.”

Ren smiled and kissed her. “Then by all means, let’s get you clean.”

And that, Nora Valkyrie would tell her disbelieving and slightly grossed-out children decades later, was how she and Lie Ren became together-together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the idea for this from some fanart I found where a terrified Pyrrha is begging Jaune to get rid of a spider. No nudity involved, but it was somehow very cute that tough as nails Pyrrha would be afraid of spiders. Originally, this was going to be an Arkos chapter, but since it was set at Beacon, I thought Ren and Nora might be easier to write. Though Nora's a little tease...


	71. Don't You Know What the Night Can Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby comes over to Oscar's room for a little fun. To her surprise, he doesn't seem like he's in the mood. In fact, he seems pretty down. 
> 
> What's going on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit different than the usual fare--maybe more "One Night in Atlas" than "Love Hurts." It was that kind of day for me (nothing to do with politics; just a tough one on the job), and sometimes you want to just write something fluffy and hopefully cute, rather than slapstick smexy humor. I tried to put some of that in here too, but not as much or as raucous as usual.
> 
> If you don't like Rosegarden, this chapter isn't really for you. If you don't mind, or do like it, read on. I've actually been trying to avoid Rosegarden chapters as they are one of the more common pairings in this fic, but this one seemed to fit Oscar and Ruby more than, say, Blake and Yang or Ren and Nora.

Oscar Pine sat on his bed, toying with the Long Memory. (And that’s not a euphemism.) His Scroll beeped, and he opened it. It was a text from Ruby: _Here I come! XOXOXOXO_ Oscar smiled, but there wasn’t a lot of humor or joy in it. A moment later—and he was pretty sure that he heard a rush of displaced air from a certain Semblance being used—there was a cheerful knock on his door. “Come in,” he called out.

The door opened and Ruby Rose hopped into the room, shutting the door behind her. “ _Good_ evening!” she half-sang, and jumped on the bed next to him. “Whew! Last Amity run for awhile. I got the day off tomorrow!” She leaned across and kissed his cheek. “And I’m not even tired, for once. It was a beautiful day, the Happy Hooligans—er, Huntresses—decided not to be dicks today, and there weren’t even any Grimm.” Ruby grinned. “And I even beat Clover at cards. Yep, today was a good day…” She used her fingers to walk up his leg. “…and it’s about to get even better.”

“That’s good,” Oscar said, but his voice didn’t seem to support the statement.

Ruby finally noticed something was wrong. “Oscar? What is it?” She looked sidelong at him, suddenly a little nervous. “Don’t you…want to be with me tonight? I mean, I can leave. It’s okay, really.”

“Now _you’re_ the one who’s lying.” Oscar set aside the cane and got up. “Ruby…do you ever really think about the situation we’re in?”

She began pulling her boots off. “What do you mean?”

“Well…we’ve been having fun here and all, and it beats nearly being killed in Haven or Argus. But the war’s still going on. And I don’t know if we’re winning.”

“We’re not losing,” Ruby said.

“But _can_ we win?” Oscar looked at his feet. He had gone to work out at the gym, do some more training, try to figure out how to fight more effectively, and was dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt. His feet were bare. He saw that his toenails were chipped, his toes callused from long days on the farm and the battles he’d been in. “You heard Jinn, Ruby. Salem can’t be killed.”

“Sure, but…we _can_ stop her.” She reached out and touched his leg. “Oscar, you can’t give up.”

“I’m not. But some days…it just seems so…hopeless.” He sighed and began to pace. “We’ve got a pretty good plan with Amity Arena. But there’s so much that can go wrong. We’ve lied to Ironwood, and eventually he’s going to find out—and we know he’s not going to take that too well. But you—we, I guess—lost at Vale, really badly. And we just barely won at Haven. Heck, we almost got killed by that nut Cordovin at Argus, and she’s supposedly on our side.” Oscar fell back onto the bed. “Salem’s not winning, Ruby, but she’s not really losing either. If she had to, she could just wait until we’re all dead, and start over.”

“Oscar, it’s going to be okay,” Ruby tried to reassure him.

“And it’s not just her. There’s also us.” Oscar pointed to his head. “Ozpin’s still in here, Ruby. And all those reincarnations and incarnations, and whoever. Somedays I catch myself thinking or saying something that doesn’t sound like me at all. And it scares the crap out of me because I wonder how long it’s going to be before I’m not me anymore.”

“Oscar, it’s not like that!” Ruby exclaimed. “You’d still be you! Ozpin wasn’t this Ozma guy or that Oztin dude with the goatee. He was his own person, just with a lot of other people’s memories!” She lay down next to him. “One day you’re not going to wake up and not be Oscar Pine anymore. You’ll still be you, and, well…I’ll still be me, so there we go.”

“And where are we going with this? With us?” He turned over to face her. “Ruby, are we just screwing around like Weiss and Jaune, or is there something more here?”

“I…I don’t know,” Ruby admitted.

“I don’t know what love is,” Oscar sighed. “The only person I’ve ever loved is my aunt, really. My parents died when I was really young. I don’t remember them. I think maybe I love you, but I don’t know.” He shook his head. 

Ruby was quiet for a moment. “Oscar, my dad once told me that you don’t marry for love.” His eyes widened and Ruby waved her hands frantically. “Whoa, whoa! I wasn’t saying we should get married or anything! Just listen to me for a sec.” She sat up, drawing her knees up to her chin. “He said you marry because you want to screw the other person and not feel like you’re breaking some moral law or something. You _think_ you’re in love, but you’re really not. You’re really just in lust.” She paused. “Hmm, that rhymed. Anyway, it’s later on that you realize you’re in love—or not—with the person you married, or you’re with. Dad said he didn’t really know that he loved Mom until he got up at 3 AM to go buy her chocolate chip ice cream and carrots, or after I was born and the bills came in and we were, well, kinda broke, or the first time I had explosive diarrhea and he and Mom had to clean me up.” He turned a little green. “Sorry about that. But anyway, Dad said _that_ was when he knew Mom loved him and he loved her, because they stuck together during pregnancy mood swings and no money and me finding out that yams don’t agree with my tummy.” She shrugged. “And when Mom disappeared, too.” Then she smiled at him, looking over her shoulder. “So I don’t know if we’re in love either, Oscar.”

He sat up. “Then what are we?”

Ruby was quiet again, which was a bit unusual for her. “We’re…us.”

“I just don’t know.” Oscar wanted to believe her, mainly because she was right. But he just could not shake the melancholy that had descended over him. 

Ruby turned around and put her head in his lap, gazing up at him. “Oscar, there’s 10,000 things that could happen, just in the next 24 hours. Salem could show up and say she’s quitting because she’s tired of fighting. Ironwood could drop dead. Jinn could pop out of her lamp and say she’s giving us a mulligan on the last wish. My mom could return from the dead. The moon could fall onto Remnant and kill us all. Yang could win the Atlas lottery. Who knows?” She brushed her fingers down his cheek. “All I know is, we’re here, right now, you and me, and I want to be with you and nobody else. So let’s just have that, okay? And we’ll just wait and see what tomorrow brings. Maybe it’ll be awesome. Maybe it’ll suck. But all we can do is just keep moving forward.”

Oscar found himself smiling. “You know, you should be like an inspirational speaker or something.”

“Yeah, well…I learned from some pretty badass teachers.” She booped his nose. “So…I think I’d kind of like to make love to you, buddy.”

He nodded. “Same here.” He sighed again. “Though we always seem to get interrupted.”

Ruby winked. “Took care of that.”

* * *

“Penny, c’mon. I’ve got to get ready for tonight,” Jaune pleaded. “I’m taking Weiss to dinner!”

Penny stood rooted at the doorway, which led to the dorm wing Teams RWBY and JNR were staying in. She did not look at him, her eyes resolute, her hands folded across her breasts. She slowly shook her head. “You shall not pass.”

* * *

“That was a good idea,” Oscar told Ruby, “but what about Salem?”

Ruby snickered and waved her Scroll. “Heh heh heh.”

* * *

“Mistress Salem?” Emerald Sustrai said hesitantly. “Can I have my Scroll back?”

“When I’m done with it.” Salem suddenly slapped the Scroll down on her throne room table and pulled at her braids. “Godsdammit! This level on Grimm Crush is _killing_ me, and I can’t even die!”

* * *

“You have Salem’s _phone number?”_ Oscar nearly shouted, in a mix of horror and awe.

“Cinder dropped her Scroll at Mistral. Yang grabbed it. We’ve had it for awhile, actually.” Ruby jumped to her feet. “What was I supposed to do—call her up? Anyway, Pietro thought we might could get her addicted to online gaming. Probably won’t work, but it’s worth a try.” Ruby smiled. “So. We’ve got Penny down the hall on guard duty, hopefully the Queen Bitch of the Grimm is tearing her hair out trying to beat Grimm Crush, and everyone else is either busy hanging out or they’re on duty down in Mantle. And Cinder Fall’s either dead or really regretting life, so we don’t even have to worry about _her_ anymore!”

* * *

Neo Politan rolled her eyes. She picked up her Scroll and typed something in, then held it down in front of Cinder’s face. 

Cinder pulled her face away from Neo’s crotch. “Of _course_ I know where the clitoris is! I’m getting to it! _Gods!”_

* * *

Ruby undid the strings to her corset. “So…we gonna do this or mope around some more?”

Oscar nodded and got to his feet. “Let’s do it.” He shucked off his T-shirt, dropped his pants, and pulled off his boxers. By the time he got that off, Ruby was already down to her stockings and underwear. “Darn! I thought I was going to win.”

“You will.” He stepped forward and kissed her. To Oscar’s surprise, her lips really _did_ taste like strawberries. “Lipstick?” Ruby didn’t usually wear any makeup; most Huntresses didn’t on duty. Grimm could smell it.

“Mm-hmm.” Ruby glanced down, to confirm what she was feeling. “Well. Maybe you really _do_ love me, Oscar. You got all excited just by kissing me.”

“Looks that way.” He kissed his way down her neck to the hollow between her breasts; Ruby undid the clasp—Oscar sometimes had a problem with that—and pulled her bra off. He kissed both nipples. “Oscar,” Ruby said quietly, “do you think my boobs are too small?”

“I like them.” Of course, Oscar reflected, they were the only breasts he’d ever touched, so he might be biased.

“Oh, okay.” She watched, smiling, as he kissed his way further down, kneeling in front of her, kissing her navel. He then pulled her panties down, letting her step out of them, before he kissed her between her legs. Ruby shuddered. “Oooh…” Then she got a devilish grin, and turned around. “Oscar, you can kiss my ass.”

“Can do.” He did so. Ruby giggled at that and spun back around. “Leave the stockings?”

“Definitely. They make a nice frame for your, uh…” Words failed him. “Womanhood?”

Ruby considered it. “Sure, we can go with that. Sounds better than my vag.”

“Or worse.”

“Or worse.” She kissed him. “Though you can call it whatever you like.” She reached down and gently took hold of him. “What should I call this?” She kissed _his_ nipples. “I like ‘hot, thobbing manhood.’”

“You’ve been reading too much of Blake’s stuff.” She led him to the bed, and they knelt on it, exploring each other’s face with their lips. “Your freckles are so damn cute!” she grinned.

“Your eyes are beautiful,” Oscar said, very seriously.

“Heh. Thanks.” They lay down, next to each other. “You be on top, okay?”

“Sure thing.” He got back up and positioned himself between her legs. Ruby opened them for him, her fingers brushing against her folds. She pitched her voice low, trying to sound sultry. “Give it to me, baby.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Oscar replied absently, distracted by the (mostly) naked girl in front of him--as far as he was concerned, the single most beautiful thing in existence. “Here I come.”

“Not yet!” Ruby laughed. “You’re not even in me—oh.” She smiled. “ _Now_ you are.”

Oscar and Ruby fell into the world’s oldest rhythm, tickling and playing at first, with more laughter, but then they started to quiet down, their breathing deepening and quickening, trying to press their bodies together even more. She began to moan softly, her stockinged legs coming up to grasp him around his rear, her hands dragging down his back. Unlike her sister, Ruby wasn’t loud when she finally reached her climax. She let out a “hmm” and buried her face in Oscar’s neck, gasping and writhing in his grasp. “Don’t…don’t stop…” she struggled out.

Oscar wasn’t too far behind her. “Ruby,” he groaned, pushed himself all the way in, and shot his seed deep into her. She held him with arms and legs until she felt him stop pulsing inside of her, and then let him pull out and lay down beside her. They caught their breath, and Ruby looked down. “Whoops.” She got up and got a washrag out of the bathroom, wiping herself, the bed, and him. “Got a little messy there.”

“Sex _is_ kinda messy,” Oscar admitted.

She flopped down next to him and kissed his cheek. “And fun.”

They were quiet for a long time, listening to Atlas’ everpresent wind blow against the window. “You know what,” Ruby whispered, “it’s been a pretty good day.”

He snuggled close to her. "And it's looking to be a pretty good night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's hopefully a bit better. 
> 
> A question for my readers, now: should this be the last chapter of "Love Hurts"? My plan was to take this to chapter 100 and end it on a nice even number. However, I've noticed reviews and such have dropped off a bit lately (could be my imagination; I swear I live for reviews these days), so I'm wondering if everyone's just getting a little bored with it. I did fall into kind of a rut with a few tropes (sometimes I think I should've named this fic "Coitus Interruptus"), and it is 71 chapters, after all. Ending it here would bookend the fic with two Rosegarden chapters.
> 
> I've still got some more chapter ideas, and naturally I always like to hear more ideas, even if I don't end up using them. I'd like to keep going. But if you folks think this is a good place to stop, I have ideas for other fics, too--not just RWBY ones, either. You folks are my readers, and these fics are ultimately for your enjoyment, and maybe some laughs in what was a pretty rough year for everyone. So it's up to you. I'm good either way.


	72. In My Daughter's Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang and Blake decide to get more or less serious for once. They love each other, but how are they going to break the news to their respective parents? Will Kali disown her daughter because there's no grandbabies possible, or will they please Cat Mom with scientific advances? Will Ghira be mildly embarrassed by his wife or mortified? What will Taiyang say?
> 
> And what does this discussion mean for the future of Bumblebee?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Running a little late tonight. Yep, gonna keep this fic going for a bit longer.
> 
> This was originally going to be a sequel to "The Birds and the Bees," where Blake gets The Talk from Kali and Ghira. In this case, Ruby and Yang were going to get The Talk from a very embarrassed Taiyang. However, it ended up going in another direction, but I like it anyway.

“Yang…unnn… _ahhh…_ ” Blake tried not to be too loud.

Yang looked up at her. “You can be loud, Blakey. We _are_ alone.”

“Don’t…don’t stop…” Blake knew ways to torture people from her days in the White Fang—even if she’d never done it herself—but she hadn’t realized that being brought to the very edge of orgasm and be left hanging there was one of them. “Yang…”

Yang ran her fingers through Blake’s black hairs. “You know, you should shave this off. It would be interesting to do this without your pubes getting in my teeth.”

Blake whimpered. “Gods, Yang…” She bucked her hips involuntarily, trying to press herself into her lover. 

The brawler decided the Faunus had been messed with enough. “Oh, all right.” She kissed the swollen nub, and Blake sucked in her breath. “Say the magic words!”

_“Please, Yang!”_

“There you go.” Yang gently pried apart her lover’s folds with her tongue, and licked along the sides. She planned on doing more, but Blake let out a yowl and she came up off the bunk. Yang held on tight, lapping up the moisture until Blake collapsed back onto the bed, gasping. She wiped sweat-plastered hair from her forehead. “You’re…whew…horrible.”

Yang shrugged. “Guilty.” She rolled out of the bunk and walked naked into the bathroom, where she gargled some mouthwash; Blake had a bit of a complex about being kissed after Yang had been going down on her. Then she returned to bunk and snuggled in next to her lover. “That was fun.”

“Sure was.” Blake dried the sweat with a towel. “For someone who has never been with a girl before me, you sure know what you’re doing.”

“And you don’t?” Yang shivered in the memory. “You know your way around a vagina, Blake.”

The Faunus giggled. “I guess it makes sense. We _do_ have them.”

“And we know what we like done.” Yang settled back on the pillow, satisfied. “A lot of guys don’t. Er…not that I’ve been with a lot of guys.”

Blake stared at the bottom of the upper bunk. “How did we get into this?” she said softly.

“You came to my room, I ate you out, you ate _me_ out, and we decided we kinda liked it,” Yang explained.

“No…fell in love.”

Yang spread her hands. “Damn if I know. I’m still figuring that out myself.” She ran her fingers over Blake’s flat stomach, hesitated on the scar there, where Adam had stabbed her. She tried to explain it, then gave up. “I just love you. That’s it. No logic to it, I guess. Hell, why does _anybody_ love someone? I’m still trying to figure out what Dad saw in Raven, other than she’s hot.”

Blake chuckled. “I’m still figuring out what I saw in Adam.”

“He had a big dick?”

Blake punched Yang’s shoulder. “No, stupid. He was actually about average.”

“Yeah, well, I hear Jaune’s about average, and you see Weiss staggering around when she comes back.”

“There’s something to be said about talent.” Blake sighed. “Yang…have you told your dad about us?”

Yang was quiet for a moment. “I’ve been meaning to,” she finally said, in a quiet voice. “Just haven’t gotten around to it. I’m not ashamed of you or anything, Blakey, it’s just…I need to.” She poked Blake in the ribs. “How about you? You told Mama and Papa Belladonna?”

“Not…yet.” Blake’s ears went back. “To be honest, I’m not sure how they’ll take it.”

“From what you’ve told me, probably something like this…”

_In the Future (Hopefully)_

Kali Belladonna opened the great doors of the Belladonna Lodge, and nearly screamed in pure joy. “Blake! Oh my gods, Blake!” She hugged her daughter. “Ghira! Ghira! Blake’s home!”

Ghira came out of the kitchen, and a wide, toothy smile split his face. “Blake! Thank the gods!” He ran to her and hugged her as well, though with Ghira’s strength, he picked her up off the ground and Blake thought her ribs were cracking. “When we heard about Atlas…”

“We’re all right, Dad.” She waited until Ghira set her down, and motioned to Yang. “Ruby and Weiss are still at the port, but they should be here soon. Mom, Dad, this is Yang Xiao Long.”

Ghira enfolded both of Yang’s hands in a beefy paw. “A pleasure, Miss Xiao Long.”

“Thanks, Mr. Belladonna!” Yang said. When he let go, she flexed her fingers and counted them, making sure all of them were still there, metal and flesh. 

Kali kissed both of Yang’s cheeks. “Hello, Yang. Welcome to our home. Blake’s written us about you. I’m glad to see you’ve come through.” She smiled. “Besides, it’s good to see Blake with more than just that Sun boy this time!” She shooed them into the house and closed the doors. 

Ghira stared down at Yang. He liked what he saw: the confidence, the casual stance of the trained Huntress, and the experience that the artificial arm spoke of. “I am glad to finally meet my daughter’s best friend.”

Blake’s ears twitched, something Kali instantly noticed. Her mother raised an eyebrow, and Blake sighed. It was as good a time as any. “Um…Mom? Dad? I…uh…I have something to tell you. Yang and I…well…we’re more than friends. If you…er…get my meaning.”

There was dead silence in the Belladonna Lodge. Now it was Kali’s ears that were twitching. “Excuse me? You and Yang are _lovers?”_

Blake shifted her feet nervously. “Well…yeah.”

“You’re both girls!”

Ghira covered his face. “Kali, I think they know that.”

Kali folded her arms across her chest. “Well. I’m quite disappointed in you.” She held up a hand. “Not because you are both female. I have no problem with that. I am disappointed because I shall have no grandbabies.” She waved a finger at Blake. “And you _know_ I demand grandchildren to spoil!”

“Whoa, Mrs. B!” Yang interrupted, putting up her hands. “We’ve talked about that. We can still get you grandkids.”

Kali raised an eyebrow. “You’d better have a long and greatly detailed scientific explanation as exactly _how_ you’re going to accomplish this feat.”

Ghira shook his head. “Kali, they could adopt.”

“Or, we could find a sperm donor!” Yang said. “There’s some good candidates.”

Kali was clearly thinking about it. “Hmm.” Then she nodded. “Very well. I can accept that.” She went over to Yang and ran her hands over her thighs—the outside of them, which was disconcerting, and the inside, which was invasive. “Yes, yes…this could work. You have good birthing hips, and I think you could give birth to several children. Hopefully you can conceive…Ghira and I had _so_ much trouble…we wanted more than one kitten, but we just couldn’t quite accomplish it.”

_“Mom!”_ Blake shrilled. “I think _I’d_ be the one having the grandkids!”

“Of course, of course,” Kali said, “but we need a contingency plan in case my difficulty conceiving is genetic!” She turned red and looked away. “Now you must understand, Yang, that Ghira and I have tried so _very_ hard over the years, and in fact tried very hard last night, if you get my meaning, you naughty little girl…”

_Back at Atlas_

Blake stared at Yang. “I don’t know what’s scarier. The fact that my mother would consider you as a backup baby factory or that you sound remarkably like her, despite the fact that you’ve never met.”

“I talked to her on the Scroll once or twice,” Yang reminded her. 

“Despite the fact that, yes, my mother likes to remind me…constantly…that my biological clock is ticking like a time bomb, I don’t think not having grandkids would be a deal-breaker for her,” Blake said. She poked Yang in the breast. “All right, smartass. How is _your_ dad going to react when you bring me to Patch?”

“Hmmm…”

_Also in the Future (Probably Season 10)_

“Team RWBY! You’re here!” Taiyang Xiao Long bounded out of the house and caught Ruby as she spiraled into his arms. He kissed her cheek. “Gods, it’s good to see you!”

“Hi, Dad!” Ruby chirped. He let her down, only to sweep Yang up into a hug, and kiss her cheek too. “Hi, Dad,” Yang laughed.

Ruby made a grand gesture with a sweep of her cape. “Dad, these are our teammates—Weiss Schnee and Blake Belladonna.”

Tai stepped forward and exchanged a handshake with Weiss. “Miss Schnee. I was sorry to hear about Atlas, but I’m glad to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Xiao Long.”

He went over to Blake and shook hands with her. Yang cleared her throat. “Dad, there’s something you should know about Blake and me. We’re…well, we’re sort of lovers. You know, together.”

“You…are?” He looked sternly at Blake. “Is this true, Miss Belladonna?”

Blake blushed and her ears flattened. “Um…yes, sir. Yes.” She willed herself to look Yang’s father in the face. “But I love her very much, and—“

Tai grabbed Blake by the shoulders and drew her into a bone-bending hug that Ghira would be proud of. “I…I have a new daughter!” He began to cry. “I have a new daughter!” 

“Mr….Xiao…Long…” Blake struggled out, trying to breathe.

“Sorry, of course!” Tai let her go, wiping his eyes. He took her hands in his. “When are you planning to marry?” He whirled on Yang. “Yang, you’d better not break this girl’s heart! I’d better see a wedding ring on this finger real soon!”

_Back in the Present_

Blake’s eyes were wide. “Seriously? Your dad would say that?”

Yang waffled her hand from side to side. “Okay, maybe I embellished. But he’s kind of old-fashioned like that.” She ran a finger across her chin in thought. “Though I’m pretty sure he was banging Raven _and_ Mom before they got married.”

Blake’s eyebrows went up. “At the same time?”

“What? No, not at the same time!” Yang reconsidered. “At least, I’m pretty sure he wasn’t. Dad might be weird and nerdy, but he could pull in the ladies. Or so Uncle Qrow told me after he’s had too much booze. I think Uncle Qrow’s a bit jealous.” 

“Do you…” Blake was now the one who turned away. “Do want to marry me?”

“Huh? Are you offering?” Yang’s mouth was suddenly dry.

“I don’t think so. I mean…I love you, Yang, but I just don’t…I don’t think…”

Yang gently turned Blake’s chin back to her and kissed her. “It’s okay. I’m not ready either.” She smoothed Blake’s hair back. “We’ll be what we’ll be. And that’s good enough.”

“Thanks, Yang.” She felt Yang’s breasts pressing into her chest, and looked down. “Well. _Those_ are very much above average.”

“Unfortunately.” At Blake’s expression, Yang laughed. “Sure, everyone stares at ‘em, but these deluxe accommodations come with a price. Bras are more expensive; if I go into a fight without a bra, I’m liable to knock myself out; and my back hurts sometimes.” She leaned back and pushed them up. “Not that I’d give up the girls for a million lien, of course.” Blake traced one of the nipples with her fingers and watched it harden. Yang turned a smoldering look on her. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, kitty.”

“Oh, I intend to finish,” Blake replied. “Plenty of time.” She turned and leaned over, opening one of the drawers set under the bunk, ignoring the feel of cold steel against her rear end. She rummaged around through underwear and socks, and pulled out something, turned over, and held it up to Yang with a sinister chuckle. “Well? What do you think? I picked this up down in Mantle.”

Now it was Yang’s eyes that were wide. “Damn. Um, Blakey, I’m not sure that’s going to fit in my…down there.” There were several words for it, but Blake wasn’t too crazy about using various slang for female genitalia; for some reason it bothered her. Unless Yang was screaming those words out in ecstasy, that is. 

Blake grabbed Yang and turned her over. “Who said it was going down there?” She slapped Yang’s bottom. “It could go in _here!”_

“Oh, _hell_ no!”

The Faunus burst into laughter. “I’m kidding.” She winced. “Yeah, pretty sure neither one of us can stretch like that.” She turned an unresisting Yang back over and ran the object down her lover’s stomach, over the navel and the blond curls. “But are you _sure_ it’s not going to fit?”

Yang let her thighs fall open. “Only one way to find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll leave it to your imaginations what Blake has.


	73. In My Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss decides to cook Jaune a meal while he's out on patrol. But when Jaune gets back, she's not sure if he wants dinner, a bath, or her. 
> 
> Take a wild guess what he chooses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fluffy romantic chapter, with some humor thrown in. Maswartz kind of gave me the idea for this one as a follow-up to the last chapter. A little short and sweet, but not every chapter has to be four or five pages!

Though the rest of Team RWBY would’ve been surprised to hear it, Weiss Schnee could cook. In fact, she could cook quite well--Klein had made sure of that--she just usually didn’t. On the rare occasion that the team needed to fix something, either Ruby or Blake would do the honors: Ruby was an excellent baker, and Blake was good at throwing together whatever she could find in the pantry, a legacy of cooking on the run. Only Yang was not so great at cooking; her attempts usually ended in something charbroiled or carbonized. Though the rest of the team was convinced Weiss would set fire to the kitchen if she even attempted to cook, they were wrong, and the former Schnee heiress was content to keep her skill a secret.

Team RWBY’s loss was Jaune Arc’s gain. Weiss carefully diced an onion and sprinkled it into the Vacuo-style stew she was preparing. It was simmering nicely, as it had for the last hour or so. Weiss leaned over, inhaled the spicy smell, and sighed. “Perfect,” she declared. She opened the refrigerator, pulled out a green pepper, and went to work on that.

The door slammed shut, and Jaune walked in, looking exhausted. Weiss glanced up from the pepper. “Good evening, Jaune.”

“Hey.” He trudged over to the weapons rack, and set Crocea Mors on it, next to Myrtenaster. 

“Long day?”

“Whew. You know it. Damn Manticore got loose today.” Weiss stopped cutting and looked up in alarm. “I don’t think it’s a trend. Anyway, nothing that we couldn’t take care of.”

“Who killed it?”

“Nora.” Jaune simulated swinging a hammer.

“She shouldn’t be out there right now. She’s still recovering.” Weiss went back to slicing the pepper, then slid those off the chopping board into the stew. 

“Yeah, tell _her_ that.” He stripped off his armor down to his shirt and jeans, then sat down to pull off his boots. “And how was your day?”

“Quiet. Amazingly enough.”

“How’s the soup?” Jaune asked, walking over to her.

“Simmering. Give it another 45 minutes or so.” Weiss washed her hands, and was reaching up for the towel when she felt his lips on her collarbone. Since she wasn’t out on patrol or anything combat-related today, she was dressed casually, in a striped blouse and plain pants; she wasn’t even wearing socks or shoes, and her hair was in a loose bun, rather than its braid. Weiss smiled. “I guess it _was_ a long day.”

“Mm-hm.” Jaune moved his kisses up her neck, and Weiss shivered. “45 minutes until the soup’s ready?”

“Thereabouts.”

“Plenty of time.” His rough hands went under her blouse and traveled up to her breasts, then stopped. “You’re not wearing a bra.”

“Didn’t feel like it today.” Weiss shrugged. “One of the advantages of not being Yang Xiao Long: I can go braless every now and then and no one really notices.”

“Unless it’s cold.” His fingers found her nipples and kneaded them gently, bringing them to stiffness. “Or you’re turned on.” He pulled his hands out from under her shirt and turned her around. The nipples were pressing against the fabric nicely. Weiss smiled and undid the bun in her hair, letting her hair fall in shining waves to the small of her back. “Which I am,” she confirmed.

“Which you are.” Jaune kissed her, and Weiss boldly licked at his teeth. Then she pulled back, made a face, and spit into the sink. “What? What is it?”

“Yuck! What did you have for lunch?” She hawked and spat again.

“Ruby brought chocolate chip cookies.” Jaune looked a little embarrassed. “You like chocolate!”

“Yes, but not when it’s been stuck in someone’s teeth for a few hours!” She poured him a glass of water. “Here.”

“Fine.” Jaune gargled with the water, and spit it out. “Happy?”

“Indeed.” She brushed past him, her fingers trailing over his shirt and down over the bulge in his jeans, and turned around when she reached the table. She leaned against it, making sure he was watching, then reached up and pulled off the blouse. Jaune’s eyes widened: Weiss might have smaller breasts than average, but it was still all there, round and fully packed, topped by those salmon-pink nipples that seemed to strain upwards, as if wanting his fingers to come back to them. Weiss gave him a slow, smoldering smile, then eased down her jeans, slowly pulling her long legs free. Jaune gulped as she stepped out of them, then did the same to her panties. Now naked, she leaned back even further, kept upright only by her rear and her toes, and ran her fingers up over her toned stomach. “Do you still have an appetite?”

Jaune nodded dumbly, staring at her, and then abruptly realized what he should be doing. Quickly, Jaune whipped down his pants and underwear to his ankles, decided not to bother with the shirt, and promptly nearly tripped and fell. Weiss smothered a laugh as he hopped around, getting untangled. Finally he knelt in front of her. “Do you need any help?” she asked, her eyes shining with mirth.

He gave her a rather overconfident look. “I think I know the menu by now.” He spread open her thighs and began running his tongue over her. Weiss threw her head back and gave a happy hum. It wasn’t long before her heart began to pound, and she was gripping the side of the table to keep from pressing herself deeper into his tongue. “Oh gods, Jaune,” she whispered. “Why are you _so_ good at that…”

Jaune grinned up at her. Truth to tell, this was his favorite part of making love to Weiss Schnee—his _second_ favorite, he amended. She liked to play the ice princess, teasing him with haughty looks that she knew excited him, like she was doing him a big favor by deigning to grace him with her body. But after a few minutes of exploring every corner of her sex with his tongue, Weiss would lose the ice, she would begin to tremble, her pale skin would flush from her breasts to her eyes, and her normal iron control would disappear. Weiss would become quivering human jelly, begging and pleading for him to bring her to the release she needed.

He played with her clitoris with just the tip of his tongue, and Weiss suddenly sat up, gripping his hair. “Ah, Jaune!” she said with a sharp intake of breath. She pulled his head back with enough force that he was afraid she would crack his neck. “I need you in me. _Now._ ”

Of course, Jaune reflected, sometimes Weiss didn’t get soft and squishy: sometimes she got demanding and domineering. That was okay too; Jaune liked both aspects of her. He stood up, took her in his arms, and gently positioned himself at her opening. “Okay?” He always asked this, and always would. Weiss growled and snapped at his lips like an animal. Jaune took that as a yes and pushed into her. _Whoa,_ he thought; she was like a humid inferno inside. He hadn’t realized he’d gotten Weiss _that_ hot and bothered.

He felt her powerful thighs grip his ribs, which were still a little sore from the day’s battles. “Ow!”

“Get with it!” Weiss ordered, and used her feet to press him closer.

“Okay, okay!” Jaune began thrusting into her. “How’s _that?”_ Weiss didn’t answer, but her increasingly loud moans were answer enough. She grabbed his cheeks and pulled him down into a kiss, then cupped her breasts for his hands to minister to. She began to toss her head in abandon, though Jaune was torn between the exquisitely wonderful feeling of having sex with Weiss Schnee and the somewhat worrisome fact that her rear kept sliding up the table, threatening to drag him onto it with her—and he doubted it would support both of them. Jaune kept having to pull her back into place, which threw off his rhythm. 

Not that Weiss seemed to notice. In fact, Jaune was pretty sure Weiss wouldn’t notice a Goliath come through the front door. One hand gripped the back of his neck; the other slid up and down the table, knocking the salt shaker to the floor. She was gasping for breath now, her eyes squeezed shut, and finally, with a sudden deep breath, Weiss reached her breaking point. She went rigid, gritted out his name, and he felt her spasming around him. Given that he was fairly close himself, Jaune kept going, and as she began to recover, he began to pound her for all he was worth. “Weiss!” he groaned, and pressed himself as deep as he could.

“Ah, that’s right, Jaune…yes…” Weiss smiled up at him as she felt him filling her. She stroked the light stubble on his cheeks, then drew him back down for another kiss. He held her as they relaxed. “I hope you still have an appetite,” she murmured into his ear.

“You kidding?” He wiped his brow. “I think I worked one up!”

Weiss laughed, then stopped suddenly as they heard someone at the door. “Oh shit! He’s home early!”

“Crap!” Jaune quickly withdrew from her, grabbed his underwear and jeans, and pulled them up as fast as he could without hurting himself. Luckily, he’d never quite gotten his shirt and socks off. Weiss threw on her blouse and was just shimmying into her pants when the door opened. “I’m home!”

“Hey, son!” Jaune called out, quickly brushing his hair into something resembling normal. “Where were you?”

Pyrrhus Arc walked into the kitchen, baseball bat over one shoulder. “Over at Jade’s. You know she’s got a mean fastball. Guess that makes sense, given her mom’s Semblance…” His voice trailed off when he saw the spilled salt and his parents' red faces. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” Weiss insisted. She quickly dropped down, grabbed her panties, and used them as a rag to clean up the mess, setting the salt shaker back on the table. “Just, um, slipped and dropped the salt!”

Pyrrhus’ eyebrow went up: he had inherited the Arc build, but the Schnee white hair. He knew his mother’s Huntress reflexes were such that she didn’t just slip and drop things. “Riiiight…okay.” He headed for his room. “I’m, uh, gonna get cleaned up for dinner.”

“Good man,” Jaune told him. He grabbed a washcloth and some sanitizer and began cleaning the table. “I think he knows,” Jaune whispered.

“He’s eleven. I would guess so.” Weiss tossed the salty panties into the garbage; it was an older pair anyway. “Oh well. Did you have fun, sir?”

“I sure did, ma’am.” He kissed her deeply. “I love you, Weiss Schnee.”

Weiss’ eyes snapped open. “I love—“ She stopped herself. Quickly, she oriented herself and looked around. It was the Atlas Academy dorm room. She looked to her left, at the sleeping form of Jaune Arc. He stirred. “Weiss, whazit…” He somewhat came awake. “Everything okay…”

She leaned over and kissed his shoulder. “Everything’s fine, Jaune. I was just dreaming.” He was back asleep in seconds, and she snuggled close to him, pressing their naked bodies together for warmth against the cool air of the dorm room. “I was just dreaming,” she repeated, and smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've mentioned in another chapter that Weiss and Jaune would name their son Pyrrhus after Pyrrha; I kind of like it. And while it's hardly original, Ruby and Oscar's daughter (you just know they're going to have a daughter just as rough-and-tumble as Ruby herself) will always be Jade to me.
> 
> This was fun. I'll try to do some slapstick next time. (And keep the ideas coming.)


	74. Squeeze Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long day in the Atlas Academy training room, and Team RWBY needs a shower. But then Yang notices that Weiss has gotten a little bit bigger in the bosom as of late. Naturally, there's no way she's letting that go without a comment. 
> 
> But Team RWBY isn't the only one in the shower...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was pretty disappointed in the last chapter with Pornomancer Tai and Raven's fantasy, so I deleted it. There was nothing wrong about it, but it wasn't my best work, so I ditched it. This chapter feels less forced and was more fun to write. Since deleting the last chapter ("Macho Man") also deleted the comments, I'm not sure who suggested just a "lewd" chapter with the girls of Team RWBY talking about their boobs--I think it was CJ Lowder--but that's what I ran with. 
> 
> This chapter references (briefly) Chapter 13 ("Won't You Take Me to Funkytown"). Wow, that was a long time ago, it feels like. I also stole a line (sort of) from "Shogun," which gets pretty damn lewd on its own. Blake would like it...

Weiss Schnee leaned against the locker and slowly let out her breath. Blake did the same. “I don’t remember Team FNKI being that good,” the Faunus remarked.

“They’ve gotten better,” Weiss replied. “They were already pretty good, but going against the other two members of the team gives them an entirely new dimension.” Weiss began taking off her battle uniform as Ruby and Yang walked in. As they walked past Weiss and Blake, Yang went over to help her sister with Ruby’s corset strings. Down to her underwear, Weiss sat on one of the locker room’s benches and began undoing the braid of her hair. Blake watched her as she took off the armored coat she wore over the black skinsuit. “You ever thought about cutting your hair short, Weiss?” She smoothed her own short cut, which she’d adopted recently.

Weiss shook her head. “I like my hair long.”

“Well, okay…” Blake grinned. “Just don’t complain if Hazel decides to use you as a flail.” Weiss gave her a dirty look and continued with the braid. 

Ruby and Yang finally got the corset strings undone, and Ruby blew out her breath with a whoosh. “I think I was wearing those too tight!”

“Or your boobs have gotten bigger.” Yang began undressing as well.

“About damn time!” Ruby exulted. “It got old being even more flat chested than Weiss.”

“Hey!” Weiss turned around to face her. “I am _not_ flat chested.” She stuck her nose in the air. “I am simply well-rounded.”

“Uh huh.” Yang took off her top. Weiss didn’t know if that was deliberate, to call attention to the blonde’s gargantuan superstructure, but the effect was the same.

“Not all of us can be put together like a teenage boy’s fantasy, Yang,” Blake told her, with a wink towards Weiss.

“I’m sorry,” Yang replied, stepping out of her panties and grabbing her towel, “all I’m hearing is jealousy.”

“Hardly,” Weiss said, getting up and undoing the clasp of her bra, “more like pity. None of _us_ are going to be having back problems when we’re older.” She gave Yang a sardonic look. “Or sagging issues.” Yang stuck out her tongue and walked into the shower. Blake stifled a laugh and took off her skinsuit; she didn’t usually wear underwear beneath it. The two of them went into the shower, quickly followed by Ruby. They were enveloped in steam; Yang liked her showers one degree cooler than magma. As she turned to rinse her hair, Yang’s eyebrows rose. “Whoa. Never mind about Ruby; what happened to _Weiss?”_

Blake looked over as she turned on her shower and nodded. “Yang’s not kidding, Weiss. You _have_ gotten bigger.”

“Teammate Bust Check!” Ruby announced, and grabbed Weiss’ breasts from behind, hefting them. Weiss squeaked and turned red, trying to squirm away. “They’re right, Weiss! You’re another cup size, easy!”

“Unhand me!” Weiss finally slapped away Ruby’s hands. “I did not gain…well, it’s not _quite_ another cup size.”

Yang grinned at her. “You know, most girls who get bigger boobs either have implants or they’re preggers. Which is it, Weiss? We going to see little Jaune babies running around in nine months?”

Weiss turned on her shower and raised a middle finger. “Don’t even joke about that, Yang. About implants _or_ children.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Seems a lot of us got hit by the tail end of puberty.” She pointed at Ruby. “It would explain your sister.”

Yang nodded. “True, true.” Noticing that Ruby had her back to her older sister, Yang walked over and grabbed a double handful. “Big Sister Bust Check!” 

“Yang, stop it!” She kicked backwards, and Yang had to scramble not to get hit in the shin. “Gods! Ever since I hit puberty you’ve been doing that, you lez!”

Yang snorted. “Guilty, your honor, on all counts. But you’re right; I should stop doing that to you.” She spun in place and grabbed Blake’s breasts. “But not to Blakey! Faunus Bust Check!”

Blake’s eyes widened. “Yang, what the frickety-frack are you doing?"

“Hmm,” Yang said, examining her lover’s bosom clinically, “they seem a bit bigger as well.”

Weiss pulled her hair into a damp tail. “Yang, you weren’t planning on feeling me up next, are you?” 

“Only if you ask nicely, Weissy.”

“Imagine my disappointment.”

Yang got a devilish look and let go of Blake. She tiptoed over to Weiss and slapped her rear. “Team RWBY Ass Slap!”

_“Eeeek!”_ Weiss screamed, rubbing her butt. “Dammit, Yang!” 

Ruby and Blake started laughing. “You going to shower, Yang, or play around?” the Faunus asked.

“Yes, _mom,”_ Yang replied, and sauntered over to her own shower. 

“Please don’t say that while we’re making love tonight,” Blake said casually. “That would just be weird.” She saw Yang turn bright red. “And boom goes the dynamite.”

“Is Yang blushing?” Ruby whipped around. “She _is!_ What’s the matter, sis, you can dish it out but can’t take it?”

“Ha!” Weiss crowed, though she didn’t turn around. 

Yang leaned against the shower pipe, letting the water cascade over her face and shoulders. She opened her mouth, then spread her hands. “Okay, okay…fair’s fair.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Damn. I can’t even come back with ‘At least I’m _having_ sex’ with you two banging your boyfriends.”

“Jaune is not my—“ Weiss began.

“Sing a new song,” Ruby interrupted, a little harsher than she intended. 

Blake nodded. “Ruby’s right, Weiss. Jaune is _totally_ your boyfriend. Why deny it so much? What’s wrong with admitting it? It’s not like you’re worried what your family will say.”

Weiss was silent for a moment. “I think I’m afraid to,” she admitted, barely audible over the falling water. Ruby suddenly felt bad. Weiss probably was afraid because admitting that Jaune was her boyfriend seemed almost like she was dishonoring Pyrrha’s memory, or worse, that she was jinxing one of them. Or, Ruby realized, there was a third option: Weiss had actually fallen in love with Jaune. Given that she herself was not sure how she felt about Oscar, she didn’t want to see Weiss hurt. Certainly Blake was right, but it might be too much right now for their friend to admit it openly.

Yang noticed Weiss’ discomfort and decided to rescue her. It had gotten entirely too serious, and since Argus and especially Brunswick Farms, the brawler had no desire to let anything get to that point. “Hey, Rubes. How does Oscar like your bald spot?” She pointed at her sister’s groin.

A few months before, such a remark might have caused Ruby to hide herself behind the shower pipe and scream at her big sister for embarrassing her. Though she did go a little pink, Ruby willed herself not to react. “He says he likes attacking the Jade Gate without the forest.”

Yang looked confused, but both Blake and Weiss tittered. “Menagerie saying,” the former heiress explained, with a thankful glance towards her friends. “Where did you hear that, Ruby?”

“Read it somewhere. Probably in one of Blake’s smut books.” 

“Oh ho,” Blake said. “Now it’s my turn. Come on, come on, make fun of me for my filth.”

Yang shampooed her hair. “Not me. It gets you all hot and bothered.” She raised her voice. “Does it itch like a son of a bitch, Rubes?”

“Nope! I actually like it like this.” 

Weiss began the laborious process of washing her long hair. “Well, I think I’ll stick to what I have. A trim does me fine.” She stopped, and turned to Yang. “How in the hell did we get on the subject of pubic hair?”

Yang shrugged. “You were the one who brought up sex, Weiss,” she lied. “Damn, girl. Your mind is just in the gutter all the time. You too, Rubes.” She sighed elaborately. “I tell you, Blake, they were once so innocent and naïve. They get a boyfriend and get to have sex for the first time, and now they’re worse perverts than you. They’re all corrupted.”

Blake finished washing her ears—both sets. “Excuse me, Miss ‘I’m Going to Have Sex With Your Ice Clone’? _Who_ is a pervert?”

Yang buried her face in her hands and wailed. “I learned it from you, Blake! _I learned it from you!”_ The Faunus rolled her eyes and shut off her shower. She took two steps and stopped, suddenly raising her hand for silence. Yang opened her mouth, but Blake quickly shushed her. Then she motioned the rest of Team RWBY to join her. “What? What is it?” Ruby whispered.

“There’s a guy in here,” Blake replied. She leaned forward, moving her head slightly. “It’s Flynt…and _Jaune._ What the hell?”

“This is the girls’ side of the dressing rooms!” Weiss hissed, blinking as shampoo ran into her eyes. “What are they doing here?”

Team RWBY listened for a moment, and realized that, from the way the two men were talking, they were getting ready to shower as well. The girls had put all their stuff in their lockers, so Flynt and Jaune wouldn’t have noticed clothes or weapons—but they should have noticed the rather obvious woman symbol on the room door. “I don’t get it,” Yang said quietly. 

“Flynt walked in here before, but that was an accident then, too.” Weiss really hoped no one asked her how she knew that; she tried to hide her blush, remembering when she’d accidentally caught Flynt coming out of this very shower, then slipped and fell on top of him. That was bad enough; the fact that they were both naked was worse, but what was infinitely terrible was that Winter had walked in on them. It was just a misunderstanding, but it had been two weeks before Winter Schnee was finally convinced of the fact, and ceased trying to find Flynt so she could kill him. 

Luckily, none of the others were paying attention to her. Instead, Yang got that satanic grin on her face again. “Hey, let’s get ‘em,” she whispered to the others. 

“We’re standing here, buck naked,” Blake pointed out. “That’s more than enough!”

“Nah! Follow my lead!” She shooed them back into the shower and switched Blake’s back on. Yang waited until she heard the two men get close enough to the shower to see through the steam, then suddenly dropped down to her knees and knelt in front of Blake, grabbing the Faunus’ hips and burying her face in her lover’s crotch. Blake’s ears went straight back, but she got the idea quick enough, and stuck her fingers in Yang’s hair, half-closing her eyes in mock ecstasy. Ruby got the joke, but froze, unsure of what to do—until Weiss got behind her, seized both of the reaper’s breasts, and put her lips on Ruby’s neck. Ruby’s eyes got big in surprise, but as Flynt and Jaune stepped into the shower, she quickly closed her eyes and leaned back, letting out a breathy moan. She closed her eyes for more than that, though it was too late: she’d already gotten a glimpse of both men, and what _they_ were packing. 

Flynt’s mouth dropped open in shock, and Jaune was about a half-second behind. “What…what the…” the leader of Team FNKI stammered.

Blake opened her eyes and turned an angry stare on them. “Gods, you two,” she said in a perfect deadpan voice, “can’t you see we’re team building here?” That was too much for Ruby, who dissolved into giggles, quickly followed by the rest of the girls. Flynt and Jaune quickly retreated around the corner, got the joke, and started laughing as well. 

Team RWBY shut off the showers and wrapped towels around themselves; they stepped out to see Jaune and Flynt had done the same. Weiss immediately went to Jaune and hugged him. “It was a joke,” she reassured him.

“I know, I know,” Jaune grinned. “Pretty good one.”

“Dammit, that’s twice!” Flynt exclaimed. “Okay, the first time I just screwed up, but this time I saw the men’s dressing room sign on the door. Jaune, man, you saw it too, right?” Jaune nodded in agreement. “So what the hell? How did we end up in here?”

“Smile!” All of them turned to Neon Katt, who slid into view, clicking her Scroll’s camera. She laughed at them. “Gotcha!” Then she looked a little disappointed. “Darn…I was hoping to catch all of you naked.”

“Neon?” Jaune asked. “You did this?”

“Yep!” Neon cackled. “I switched the signs on the doors after Team RWBY went in for their shower!” She let out a high, mewling laugh. “I gotcha! I gotcha good!”

“Oh yeah?” Flynt smirked at his partner. “Well, we got to see Team RWBY having an orgy, so I think _we_ were the ones who got good.” He held out his hand, and Jaune slapped it. “Guys win.”

Neon cocked her head to one side. “Nyan?” she said in confusion.

Yang jammed her hands on her hips. “So you set this up, Neon? You were going to get a picture of all of us naked.” 

The other Faunus nodded. “Yep again!” Neon crowed. “Internet here I come!”

Yang turned to her team. “Get her.”

Neon suddenly realized that she was vastly outnumbered and turned to run. She was inhumanly fast, but she was barely halfway to the door before it was already blocked by Ruby, rose petals floating in the air along with her towel. “You’re not going nowhere!” Neon had no time to remark on the double negative in that sentence before she was grabbed by Blake, Jaune and Yang. “Now what?” Jaune looked at Flynt. “You’re her teammate. How do we punish her?”

Flynt waggled his eyebrows. “I think _we_ need to get some pictures.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Neon yelled. She was wrong: they _did_ dare. _“Kyaaaa!”_ The pictures that were taken didn’t actually end up on the internet, but Neon Katt learned an important lesson about practical jokes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some other folks also suggested I do something with Team FNKI, so here you go. There's been a few calls to get Weiss into a threesome with Flynt and Neon, and no, I haven't forgotten that idea at all.
> 
> There's a fanart cartoon out there somewhere where Hazel *does* use Weiss as a flail against Oscar.


	75. Stay at Home Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang and Blake have some time to themselves again, so Blake decides it's time to wake Yang up for some fun.
> 
> But we all know that would just be a boring chapter if that was all that happened, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was ImperialsamaB's idea, and they set me up perfectly for it. Thanks!

Oscar Pine and Jaune Arc rode the elevator up to the wing of Atlas Academy, where they were temporarily staying ~~between episodes~~ until more permanent quarters could be found, or when and if Teams RWBY and JNOR moved on. Both of them leaned against opposite corners of the elevator. 

“Hey, Oscar,” Jaune said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, Jaune?” Oscar answered.

“How’s things going with Ruby?”

“I don’t know where she finds the energy,” Oscar said honestly. “ _Ozpin_ doesn’t know where she finds the energy. You?”

“Well, the good news is, I’m really getting good at using my Semblance,” Jaune told him. “The bad news is, it’s because Weiss is making me use it on her every night.”

“That’s rough, buddy.” Oscar’s Scroll chimed, and he fished it out of his pocket; as he did so, Jaune’s went off as well. “Oh, it’s a text from Ruby. ‘Grimm sighted on the north ridge. Will be doing night patrol with Ace Ops and stupid Harriet. Warm me up in the morning.’”

“Huh. Weiss said the same thing…though she was a tad more explicit on the warming thing. Also on her opinion of Harriet.” Jaune put his Scroll back. He and Oscar smiled at each other, then gave each other a high-five. “We get some sleep tonight!” they said simutaneously.

In Team RWBY’s dorm room, Blake got a similar text from Ruby, though it mentioned nothing about getting warmed up, naturally. She shut off her Scroll, set aside _Ninjas of Love XI: Smut and Nothing But,_ switched off her reading light, and got out of her bunk.

Pretty much all of their friends figured that Yang was the aggressive one in the Blake/Yang relationship. It made sense: Yang was that kind of person. She tended to be the one that made the first move in everything, whether it be romance or fighting, and so it was reasonable to think that, when it was time to get frisky between the blonde brawler and the teenage ninja Faunus, Yang would be the one to get things rolling. As such, without really meaning to, Weiss and Ruby tended to believe that Yang was the “man” in the relationship, always looking for sex, while Blake was the “woman,” who only reluctantly gave up the booty. This was a little unfair on their part: neither Weiss nor Ruby ever had much problem letting their boyfriends know when it was time for a triple-X throwdown—they might not be as blatant as that, but both of them knew subtle hints they could use on Oscar and Jaune, such as showing up at their dorm room door wearing nothing beneath their cloak or nightdress. Therefore, clearly there was no “man/woman” dynamic in anyone’s relationship, because Weiss and Ruby were themselves _more_ aggressive than their men. So there.

In any case, it wouldn’t be true anyway. Sometimes Yang was the one who crawled into Blake’s bunk or greeted Blake at the door with nothing on but a strap-on, and sometimes Blake was the one who crawled into _Yang’s_ bunk or came out of the bathroom sans apparel to start licking Yang’s neck while the brawler sat at the computer. Usually, if Blake was the one to roll for initiative, as it were, it was after reading a few chapters of _Ninjas of Love,_ which was why Yang made sure that Blake always had the latest copy.

Tonight was no different. With the knowledge that neither Ruby nor Weiss would be home tonight, instead risking hypothermia and blunt force trauma hunting Grimm in subzero temperatures, Blake lightly poked her lover in the back. Yang was asleep, her back to the dorm, bundled up in her covers. “Yang,” Blake whispered, though there wasn’t anyone within earshot. “Yaaaang.”

“Mmpf,” Yang mumbled.

“Ruby and Weiss will be gone tonight. We have the place to ourselves again,” Blake purred.

“Mm-hm.” Yang still sounded mostly asleep, though the Faunus thought she detected some independent movement.

Blake took off her yukata and let it fall to floor. Naturally, she didn’t wear a bra to bed. “I just took off my robe.”

“Mm-hm.” 

She reached down and pulled off her panties, stepping out of them. “Now I just took off my underwear. I am completely naked, Yang.”

“Mm-hm.”

Blake cocked her head to one side. This was strange. Usually her lover would’ve been out of the bed, stripped for action by now. She leaned close and said breathily, “I want you, Yang. I want you lick me all over. I want you to explore me with that tongue of yours. Every nook and cranny.”

“Okay,” Yang yawned. She nestled deeper into the covers. A minute later, she began to snore.

Blake’s shoulders slumped. “Dammit,” she grumped softly. “Crap. Well, I guess it’s just me and you, Mister Shower Head…”

Yang rolled over, and even in the dim light from her own night vision, Blake could see the blonde grinning at her. “Can’t believe you fell for that, Blakey.”

“Yang…” Blake folded her arms over her breasts. “You were awake the whole time?”

“Mm-hm. Ruby texted me first.” Yang threw back the covers. She wasn’t wearing a thing either. “Mister Shower Head sounds like fun, but I rather like the tongue thing first. We have to get dirty to get clean, don’t you know.”

That statement seemed to be an oxymoron to Blake, but she didn’t mention it as Yang slowly, seductively, climbed out of her bunk—if one could do so seductively. She grabbed Blake by the cheeks and drew her up to her lips. They kissed, and the tongue exploration expedition began immediately. When they parted, it left a thin trail of saliva, which dangled from Yang’s chin. “Ew.” Blake grabbed a corner of the sheets and dabbed her friend’s mouth. “Gross.”

“What? That’s not a turn-on?”

“Drool is _not_ turn-on.”

Yang rubbed her chin in thought. “I don’t know. Wasn’t it in one of the _Ninjas of Love_ books where they talked about Noriko’s drooling pus—“

“Stop!” Blake exclaimed. “Yes, and that was gross too! It was like you had written that chapter, except there wasn’t as much slang and Keiichi didn’t have a ten-inch schlong!” 

“Keiichi would get a lot more chicks if he did,” Yang argued, as she dropped to her knees. Her fingers reached up and ran across Blake’s slit. “Well, it’s not drooling yet.”

“I should hope not. Still gross. Stand up.” Yang did so, looking strangely at her lover, and then Blake went to her knees. “Oh,” Yang said, understanding. 

“I’m not always a prude.” As if to prove it, Blake seized a double handful of Yang’s rear and buried herself in her friend’s crotch. The first touch of Faunus tongue (which, despite popular belief, was not like sandpaper, as that would be terrible) made Yang forget all about anything drooling—though she was plenty tempted to at her lover’s ministrations. She scooted around to lean against the bunks; Blake held on and didn’t let up. As Blake’s tongue delved deep, Yang’s head fell back and she spread her legs a little wider to give her lover more access. Blake started at the bottom and worked her way to the top, and looked up at Yang while she did so, her eyes caught Yang’s, daring her friend to watch, glowing yellow in the dark. Yang gulped; there was something unbelievably erotic in the sight, especially when Blake began lapping at her, like a cat with a bowl of milk. “Blake,” Yang whined pitifully, bracing herself against the bunks, her artificial hand tightening and beginning to slightly bend the light steel of the beds’ framework. She began involuntarily rising to her tiptoes as she felt the tension begin in the pit of her stomach. “Gods, Blake, yes…” she groaned. She managed to bite back several choice four-letter words beginning with the letter f; Blake was always a little embarrassed by what would come out of her friend’s mouth during sex. Moaning was perfectly acceptable, so Yang began to do that. She began to tremble, her knees shaking, as she got closer and closer to that wonderful moment when the tension would snap.

And as frequently happens in these stories, things began to go wrong about that time. Without warning, or even an establishing shot, a red portal suddenly appeared in the middle of the room. Yang knew instantly what it was, but at the moment, Salem, Cinder, and the entire Beacon Academy Marching Band could come through the door and Yang wouldn’t care. Blake’s eyes were closed and she was concentrating on the task at hand (or in this case, at tongue), so she didn’t notice. From out of the portal stepped Raven Branwen, whose bare feet touched the carpet at the same time Yang’s orgasm erupted like a volcano. “Ahhh _godddssss…”_ Yang half-shouted through clenched teeth. Blake held on tight as Yang nearly collapsed, her whole body now shaking. To Raven, Yang held up a single trembling finger—not the middle one, though she had been tempted.

“Oh,” Raven said, blinking in surprise. “I’m…I’m shorry.” She stumbled around them and collapsed into the computer chair. While Yang tried to compose herself, which was not easy, considering she’d just had a shattering climax in front of her biological mother, Blake suddenly realized that there was a third person in the room. She shot to her feet and whipped around, then shrank back against the bunks. She had never actually met Raven Branwen—the Spring Maiden had been down in the Relic of Knowledge’s vault by the time Blake had gotten to Haven Academy—but she’d seen enough pictures of her. 

Raven waved her hand languidly. “Don’ mind me,” she said with a smile, “I can wait a bit.” She took a drag from a half-full bottle and set it on the desk. “G’on, continue.”

Yang grabbed the covers from her bed and dried the sweat off her body, then tied it around her like a toga. “Raven—Mom,” Yang corrected, albeit reluctantly; as far as she was concerned, Summer Rose had been her real mother, if not her birth one. “What are you doing here?”

“Jus’ wanted to talk,” Raven said, weaving. She waved her hand at them again. “No, shreally. Jus’ pretend I ain’t even here.”

“I am _not_ having sex in front of my mother!” Yang shouted. She snatched up Blake’s covers and tossed them to the Faunus, who still was in a state of shock. She got Blake’s attention and pointed to her chin, and Blake quickly mopped away the drool, turning bright red. 

“’S no big deal,” Raven slurred. “I saw Summer and Tai bangin’ one time. ‘Course, I was kinda a bird. Gods _damn_ but Summer could go. She was up 'n' down on Tai like a pogo shtick. I think she was usin’ her Shemblance or shomethin’.” 

“You’re drunk!” It wasn’t a hard conclusion to make, even if Raven didn’t have a bottle of whatever bandit moonshine she was getting hammered on. She was only wearing her kimono, no shoes, one sock, and one shoulder of the kimono was askew, which at least told Yang that her mother was wearing a bra. Her sword was still weirdly right where it normally was. 

“Yep,” Raven replied, smacking her lips on the _p._ “I decided t’ get really fucked up tonight, an' then figured on seein’ m’ girl baby.” She looked confused for a moment, then held up a finger. “M’ only baby. Thass’ right. M’only baby.” Then Raven’s face suddenly screwed up, tears appeared at the corner of her red eyes (which were _much_ more red than usual), and she burst into sobs. _“M’ only baby!”_ She buried her face in her hands and bawled.

Blake looked at Yang, who looked back and shrugged. The Faunus frowned and pointed at Raven, clearly indicating that the brawler needed to do something. Feeling like a hypocrite, Yang bent down and put her arm around her mother. Raven cried even harder, her hands coming up and accidentally pulling off the sheet. Yang now had the very odd and extremely disconcerting experience of having her own mother weeping into her daughter’s naked breasts. _If Ruby walks in right now,_ Yang thought, _I am going to jump through that window and die. Then I’m going to punch the Good Brother right in the face for putting me into this situation, and I don’t care if he makes me into Salem 2.0._

Blake quickly snatched up Yang’s shorts and tank top from her friend’s bed, and tossed them to her. Yang managed to pry off Raven long enough to get dressed, while Blake hurriedly did the same. By that time, Raven was starting to wind down, enough that she let go of her daughter and leaned back against the chair, sniffling. “I’m shorry,” she repeated. “Jus’…I been a shitty mom, Yang! I shoulda been there…shouldna left Tai…Summer was sho much better a mama…”

Had Raven been sober and not bombed and weepy, Yang might have agreed, vehemently so. Raven _had_ been a shitty mother, abandoning her when she was an infant, then apparently spying on her most of her life in her bird form, only coming to her aid once, when Neo Politan had almost killed her. Yang would’ve definitely mentioned that, the night she and Ruby were lost in the woods and Grimm had almost eaten them— _would_ have eaten them if not for Qrow—that would’ve been a great time for Raven to show up. Yet seeing her mother like this, in a forlorn state, Yang couldn’t bring herself to pile on. Instead, she gently got Raven to her feet, and led her over to Blake’s bunk, and sat down next to her. “Mom…it’s okay.” Yang amended that. “Okay, it’s _not_ okay. But now’s not the time to have this conversation.”

“Jus’ want t’ shay how shorry I am…”

“Maybe in the morning, huh?” Yang advised. “When you’re sober. Then we can talk this over.” Truth to tell, Yang found herself wanting to have that conversation. Raven had been regretting, on that day in the vault. She had cried then, too. In her own warped way, Raven was trying to protect Yang, and had more or less admitted her own moral cowardice. But when the Fall Maiden was tighter than Winter Schnee’s butt was not a good time. 

“I guess,” Raven mumbled. She wiped her eyes, then looked at them. “I’m shorry about interruptin’ too…” She smiled, a bit blearily, but genuinely. “You two lovers, huh?”

“Yes,” Blake answered. “We’ve been together…well, I guess a month or two now.”

“Thass’ good,” Raven nodded. “Yang needs shomeone good. I’m glad. ‘Course, I wouldn’t mind havin’ a rugrat grandkid or two runnin’ around to spoil…” Blake rolled her eyes; apparently every mother on Remnant wanted Yang and/or Blake to produce offspring. “But thass’ okay.”

“It doesn’t bother you that…y’know…Blake’s another girl? Or Faunus?” Yang asked.

“Nahhh.” Raven waved it away like an annoying fly. “I’ve had shome girls, an' all _kinds_ o' Faunus. It's good." She nudged Yang with an elbow. "Kinda fun, change of pace from dick, right?’ She giggled, then belched. “Don’ mind me. I’m drunk.” She squinted at Blake. “You shure are pretty. Yang picks ‘em good.”

“I sort of picked her,” Blake insisted, somewhat insulted.

“Bah! Don’ matter. So long as yer happy.” She grabbed Yang by the front of her tank top. “She makin’ you happy, Yang?” Raven’s free hand landed dangerously on the hilt of her sword. Blake’s eyes widened. Of all the things she thought she might be doing tonight, running for her life from a blitzed Spring Maiden was not one of them. 

“She makes me very happy, Mom,” Yang said honestly. "And I hope I do the same to her."

“Good. Real good.” Raven’s hand came away from the sword, and she looked wistful. “Y’know, shometimes I wish I’d made love t’ Summer. She was cute. I liked her. Hell, I loved her. She was my bestie.” The tears started to well up once more. “She was my bestieeee…” Before Raven could burst into tears again, her eyes rolled up and she passed out on Blake’s bed. 

“Damn,” Blake commented after a few long minutes of silence, “your mom sure can tie one on. I guess it’s a Branwen thing.”

“I guess,” Yang agreed. She got hold of Raven’s feet and carefully hoisted them into the bed, straightening her out. She then managed to get her mother’s kimono off, then her bra; at least she was wearing panties, Yang thought. Raven’s breasts proved that a large bosom were a genetic trait as well. Yang handed the clothes to Blake, who folded them neatly to one side, then gently rolled Raven onto her side, so in case she threw up she wouldn’t drown in her own vomit. She piled up the sheets to keep her mother in place, then tucked her in. Raven mumbled something incoherent, then curled up, sound asleep. “I’m sorry, Blake,” Yang whispered. “I wish you weren’t seeing her like this.”

“It’s all right.” Blake reached out and pulled the kerchief out of Raven’s wild mane of hair. “I think she’s sincere in apologizing, Yang.”

“We’ll see in the morning,” the brawler replied, sounding none too convinced. “Never thought I’d be putting my biological mother to bed in my lover’s bunk.” She put a hand on Blake’s shoulder. “Sorry I can’t reciprocate tonight, Blakey. You were really good, too.”

“You can make it up to me.” Blake picked up the bottle of booze and sniffed it. Her ears stood on end. “Holy crap. What _is_ this stuff? No offense, Yang, but I’m sure glad my parents don’t drink.”

“Ghiiirrraaa…” Ghira Belladonna looked up from his desk and nearly fell out of his chair. Kali Belladonna was leaning against the doorjamb to his study, wearing black silk stockings and belt, a leather push-up bra that hid exactly nothing, and that was all. In one hand was a silk whip; in the other, what was left of a bottle of scotch. “Kitty wants to plaaaay…”

“My gods, woman.” Ghira got up from his desk, took off his glasses, and switched off the light. He caught his wife as she swayed dangerously. “How much did you drink?”

“Got tired of waitin’,” Kali grinned, licking her lips. “So I drank some good stuff. Now I wanna drink somethin’ else!”

Ghira stared down at her, then grinned back, picking her up. She giggled contentedly, putting her face into his thick chest hair. “Damn, I love being married,” he said, and carried her to the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drunk and mauldlin Raven is fun to write, though I admit drunk and amorous Kali was fun too...may have to continue that one at some point, because Cat Dad and Cat Mom have not gotten a chapter that I can recall (they did get one in "Sunshine and Summertime"). And Jaune and Oscar may finally have some time to recover...
> 
> What happens next? I thought about writing it, but that would be a serious conversation (if one where Raven was hung over), and this story is not about being serious (much). Suffice to say that Yang and Raven probably would have a long and very awkward talk. The trope of someone getting interrupted mid-sex is getting a bit overplayed, but this was a great idea, so I had to run with it. 
> 
> You folks have given me some great ideas for future chapters, so I'll keep working on them. I really want to do another Torchwick/Neo one, once I figure out the situation.


	76. The Bitch is Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tai is surprised to find Raven stuck in the woods outside his home. He's not pleased to see her. She's come to apologize, but Tai doesn't feel like accepting the apology. In fact, he'd very much like to throw her out. You won't believe what happens next.
> 
> Actually, if you've read this fic...you probably will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Use the Power Of suggested that I either rewrite the last chapter, or write another one with Tai and Raven having angry sex. That last part sounded pretty good, so think of this as a prequel to the last chapter. 
> 
> As I was writing it, though, I found out there wasn't really a way to write Tai and Raven reconciling in a funny fashion. I tried, but there was no humor there. Too much has passed between them. So after two rewrites, I decided to heck with it and wrote the chapter as I thought it should go. As a result, this is probably the most serious chapter in "Love Hurts," but few other chapters make that title so true.
> 
> So fair warning: not a lot of humor here; this chapter could fit into "Sunshine and Summertime" or "RWBY Wings" more than "Love Hurts"...but I think it's still a pretty good chapter.

Taiyang Xiao Long walked contentedly down the forest path, Zwei faithfully at his side. The corgi was very well-behaved, and hadn’t needed a leash since he was a puppy. Occasionally he would break off, go sniff a tree or a bush, and hike his leg, but most of the time he waddled along, as content as Tai. 

Then Zwei suddenly stopped, sniffed the air, and growled. Tai stopped. Dogs were superb Grimm hunters: only the largest breeds could actually fight one, and Zwei was not large. He could still sense trouble, and Tai, with decades of Huntsman experience behind him, would do the rest. Tai tensed up, but then a single black feather fluttered to the ground. He relaxed some: it was unmistakably the feather of a raven, which meant Qrow. The possibility of his brother-in-law turning into his bird form, getting drunk (either before or after becoming a bird), and crashing into a tree was not only possible, but happened with surprising regularity.

“Qrow?” Tai called out. There was no answer, and Zwei’s hackles were still raised. The dog wouldn’t act like that around Qrow, whose scent was known and familiar. That left one other possibility, since the feather wasn’t big enough to be from a Nevermore.

“Raven?” Tai yelled, hesitantly. 

“Over here!” The voice was unmistakably Raven Branwen’s, with the same irritated tone of voice that he knew so well. What his ex-wife was doing on Patch was a mystery. She added a spate of horrible cursing that would’ve made a Vacouan barge sailor blush. 

Tai left the trail and made his way through the thick brush, Zwei following and having a much easier time. Luckily, Raven was not far into the woods. She was tangled up in a thick bunch of brambles; Tai, despite the situation, suppressed a laugh. It was obvious she had attempted her favorite trick of flying between the trees, transforming back into a human as she went, and misjudged height and distance, crashing into the brambles. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Why don’t you save the fucking questions and help me?” she shot back.

Tai shrugged. “I could just leave you there. It would be a little bit of payback for leaving me.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Besides, from what I hear you’re the Spring Maiden now. Should be no trouble busting out of a hedgerow.”

“Sure, if I wanted to burn down the godsdamned forest!” She tugged at the brambles, but her wild mane of hair and her dress were tangled up, and the more she struggled the worse it got. 

Tai watched for a bit longer, then reached forward and grabbed the hilt of her sword, Omen. Raven’s hands instantly grabbed his, and he looked at her. “Let me. I can use this to cut you out.”

“Or cut my fucking head off,” she snarled, but took her hands away.

“I’m tempted,” Tai admitted, and withdrew the sword. Though he didn’t use weapons—his Semblance made it so he didn’t have to—he knew how to use them. Luckily, Raven hadn’t impregnated the blade with Dust, so he was able to use its sharp edge to saw away at her hair, as close to the brambles as possible; she didn’t lose much in the way of her locks.

“I wouldn’t blame you,” Raven finally answered, in a low voice. Tai glanced at her, but was silent until he finally got her hair free. Together, they looked at the dress. It was hopeless. “I’m going to have to cut it,” Tai told her.

“The hell with that.” Raven undid her red sash, then unbuckled her belt. The skirt was caught low down, so she was able to shimmy out of it. Tai found himself staring at her: Raven’s kimono ended above her hips, and her bright red panties were on full display. He wasn’t surprised at the cut of her underwear: high over the hips, barely covering everything that needed to be covered. Raven had always liked wearing sexy underwear, and evidently that hadn’t changed in the fifteen years since Tai had last seen her in them. Now, without the awkward angle they had been at, the two of them were able to get the skirt free. There was still a large tear across it. “Shit,” Raven cursed. 

“I’ll sew it up.” Tai handed her back Omen. “And you can stay for dinner. Something tells me this isn’t your usual visit.”

Raven sighed. “So you knew about all those times I showed up in bird form to check on Yang…and you.”

“There’s only two red-eyed ravens I know of on Remnant,” Tai answered, “and Qrow doesn’t feel the need to hide.” He motioned to the trail. “You remember the way.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yeah.” Raven made her way back to the trail, where Zwei had retreated to, keeping an ear out for Grimm. She knelt down to pet him, but the corgi backed off, lips peeled back in a snarl. Raven was tempted to kick the dog for its impertinence, but Tai was standing there. “When did you get the mutt?”

“His name’s Zwei,” Tai growled back, “and he’s more family than you are.”

Raven grimaced. “Ouch.” She spared Zwei another withering glance, and walked down the trail. Tai realized that having Raven lead—which he’d done to keep her hands in view—also meant that something _else_ was in view. Raven might be pushing forty, but a lifetime of hunting Grimm and leading the Branwen Tribe had left her with a trim body and a rather tight bottom, a great deal of which was on display. Despite himself, despite the very real hatred he had for his ex-wife, Tai felt the old desire rekindle: Raven was still a damn good looking woman.

It was not very far to the cabin. Raven stopped as they walked out into the well-kept front yard. “Are Ruby and Yang here?”

“No. Why do you care?”

“Tai…I just want to talk.” She walked up to the front door and opened it; it was unlocked. There were few thieves on Patch, and those that existed knew better than to steal from a skilled Huntsman. He followed her in, and she sat at the dinner table. “You want a blanket or something?” Tai asked.

“I’m not cold,” Raven replied.

“You’re in your underwear.”

“So? I could be buck naked. You’ve seen it all before, Tai.”

Tai decided not to argue with that logic and began fixing dinner. “I’m listening,” he said over his shoulder. Zwei sat down in the living room, for once not begging for scraps. He stared at Raven, and it was not a friendly one.

Raven ran her fingers through her hair, readjusting her kerchief. She chuckled. “Now that I’m here, I don’t know what to say.”

“’I’m sorry’ would be a good start,” Tai told her. He took out some steaks and began seasoning them. “Though not to me. I’m over it. Yang would be a better place to start.”

“I already said it to her,” Raven said, in a tone of voice so melancholy that Tai stopped and looked at her. She was staring into space. “Yang didn’t tell you?”

“She told me you ran into each other at Haven. She said you were the Spring Maiden, that you tried to kill Qrow, and you probably killed Cinder Fall while you were trying to steal the Relic of Knowledge. Also that you didn’t have the balls to go through with it.” Tai went back to his seasoning. “Her words, not mine.”

“She’s definitely my daughter,” Raven said. “She even sounds like me.”

“But she’s not you. Not even close, thank the gods.” Tai sliced the steak into strips, then put them on to cook. Next he pulled out some vegetables and tossed them in with the steak. “Shish-kebobs. Hope you like things simple. I wasn’t planning on company.”

“That’s fine.” Much to Tai’s irritation, Raven was silent until the food was ready. He impaled them on wooden dowels and put out plates. “Soda or wine?”

“Wine.” Tai wasn’t surprised; Qrow wasn’t the only drinker in the Branwen family, though she’d never quite been the lush her brother was.

He poured them some wine and they began to eat. “You’re not talking,” Tai said between bites.

Raven put the kebob down. “I fucked up,” she told him.

“That’s the understatement of the century.”

“Yeah, well, what the hell else can I say? How the hell do you look back at your life and realized you managed to fuck up every single fucking thing you ever touched?” Raven tore into the steak like it was a living thing. “Never should’ve gone to Beacon. Never should’ve let that asshole Ozpin use me as a magical experiment.” She was rapping out the words between bites. “Never should’ve fallen in love with you. Damn sure should’ve never married you, or gotten knocked up.” Tai watched in amazement as she devoured the kebob; he’d seen Raven angry, many times, but he’d never seen her _eat_ in anger. Within two minutes, she was finished, dropping the dowel like she was dropping a mic. 

Tai munched on his, letting the silence stretch until it was uncomfortable. “I’m waiting,” he finally stated.

“For what?”

“The most important thing you fucked up: when you left.”

Raven stared at her plate, then shook her head. “Because that wasn’t a fuckup.”

Tai slammed down the kebob so hard that Zwei jumped two feet. “What the _hell,_ Raven! You abandoned me, which I can understand—you never loved me—but abandoning Yang? What kind of mother abandons her baby only two weeks after she’s born—“

Raven shot out of her chair, one hand on Omen’s hilt. “You son of a bitch! How dare you—“

“You’re the one who left!” Tai shouted. He was out of his chair now.

“That’s not what I meant, you cocksucker!” Raven shouted back.

He leaned across the table, fists on the tabletop. “Then what did you mean, Raven? This ought to be good! I’ve always wanted to hear what kind of damn excuse you had for what you did!”

“That’s not—I didn’t mean—oh, you stupid bastard!” Raven let go of the sword, grabbed Tai by the lapels of his shirt, and pulled him into a kiss. It took him completely by surprise: he’d been expecting Omen to come out of its sheath, but not for his former wife to kiss him. Her lips were warm and tasted of steak and roasted vegetables. Once more, despite himself, Tai felt the desire. It didn’t last long: after about a second, she broke the kiss and shoved him backwards. Her face was another shock: Raven’s red eyes were filled with tears. “How dare you, you fucking asshole,” she said, her voice cracking. “How dare you say that I never loved you.”

Tai adjusted his shirt. “You had a funny way of showing it. Running away and all.”

“Why, you smug bastard.” Raven unstrapped Omen and threw the sword on the table. Then she stalked around it, her eyes literally blazing, crimson flame trailing from them; Zwei whined, backing off. She poked him in the chest, hard. “I didn’t run.” She tried to poke him again for emphasis, but he grabbed her hand. 

“You always run, Raven.”

“Let go of me!” she demanded.

“Make me.”

She tugged at her trapped hand. “I’m the motherfucking Spring Maiden, Tai. I could turn you into smoking bones.”

He got in her face. “Then _do it,_ Raven. C’mon, tough girl. _Do it._ ” She glared back, the flames still smoldering, but he wasn’t afraid. He saw the confusion in her face. Raven was used to people being afraid of her, or using her Maiden powers to intimidate, but Tai was not intimidated or afraid, and never would be. Her cheeks burned red. She could, of course, easily get out of his grasp, and could carry out her threat to incinerate him, or freeze him, or kill him in a hundred different ways. But Raven couldn’t do any of that to Taiyang Xiao Long, and he knew it. The flames trailed to nothingness. “I knew you couldn’t do it,” he said derisively. “Like I said, Raven…you always run.”

“You unbelievable prick,” she snarled.

“Am I wrong?” Tai pointed towards the door. Neither one of them were at their best, but fifteen years of anger and frustration bubbled up inside of Tai, and he wanted Raven to feel at least some of the pain she’d inflicted on him, on Yang, on Summer, and on Qrow. “There’s the door, Raven. Why don’t you use it?”

“I came here to talk—“

“Bullshit!” Tai shouted. “You came here looking for vindication. You came here expecting me to be all forgiving and kind, because I’ve always been like that. Well, not this time, Raven. You can find your validation somewhere else, because I made peace with you being out of my life, so you can march right back out—“ He was cut off by her grabbing him again and once more, crushing her lips against his. He wrenched her free. “Dammit, Raven, don’t try using your body. Just leave.”

“Make me.” Now Raven got in _his_ face, standing on tiptoe, her perfect teeth—aside from a bit of steak between two of them—bared in a sardonic grin. “C’mon, tough guy. _Do it_.”

With his own words thrown back in his face, Tai went red with rage. He seized a handful of her hair and kissed her back, equally as hard. She didn’t pull back, instead slipping her tongue against his. She could feel him surge against her in his cargo shorts, and desire suddenly exploded inside Raven. All the memories came flooding back, all the times they had made love to each other, sometimes tenderly, sometimes playfully, sometimes when she had been angry about something and Tai knew how to defuse her. She raised a leg and rubbed it against his thigh, pushing her crotch against his. “You bitch,” he murmured through their kisses.

“You asshole,” she murmured back. Neither was smiling. They were still enraged at each other—Tai for all the years of loneliness, Raven at the implication she’d never loved him, and at herself. His strong hands came up and pulled her kimono apart, exposing her breasts, barely contained by her bra. She didn’t bother unbuttoning his shirt, simply tearing it off with buttons ricocheting around the kitchen. Raven’s fingers found his solid pectorals and ran through his blond chest hair. His hands hadn’t stopped moving: he played with the clasp on her bra, gave up, and pulled the straps down, then the bra. The clasp came undone on its own, and it fell free, along with her large breasts. Raven threw her head back as his hands cupped them, squeezing them, almost painfully—though she couldn’t be sure if it was painful because Tai was trying to hurt her, or because they felt so full. Her head was swimming with desire, and from the expression on Tai’s face, he was in no better shape. She felt her panties being pulled off, but that was fine, because she was already getting his shorts down. Their lips were roaming freely now, kissing necks, shoulders, chests.

He pushed her back onto the table. Raven understood: there was to be no foreplay, none of the usual things they used to do. This was angry, hateful sex, and she wanted Tai more than she’d ever wanted anyone before. She broke off suckling at his neck. “What are you waiting for, you shit? An engraved fucking invitation?”

“Fuck you,” Tai growled, and proceeded to do so. He pushed into her, meeting no resistance; she was very wet. Tai usually preferred to make love slowly, spinning it out, watching his lovers dissolve into passion, putting their pleasure ahead of his, but not this time. His thrusts were slamming into her, and Raven loved it. She drew his lips down to her. “Give it to me, you son of a bitch,” she grinned malevolently at him. Her feet—she’d lost both boots at some point, and one of her stockings soon followed—clasped him hard around his rear. “Don’t hold back, Tai, if you’ve got the balls!”

“No intention to,” he grunted, as he fairly jackhammered her.

Raven laughed. “About damn time…” Then he began licking at her nipples, and Raven groaned with pleasure. “Gods, Tai, I love it when you do that…” He petulantly stopped; he didn’t want to do anything she loved, except he was already doing that, and hard. Part of him wanted to stop, pull out, and throw Raven bodily out of his house—out of Summer’s house—but that part was quickly swamped by the feeling of being in her. Raven, for all of her faults, had always been a good lover, and it had been so long. Tai had never taken another lover after Summer, though he’d been tempted.

And he still loved Raven, dammit.

Raven was starting to lose it. He shoved her further up the table with every thrust, to the point that he was nearly on the table as well. Plates and food clattered to the floor. Seized with inspiration, among other things, Raven grabbed the wine bottle and poured it across her breasts. “Drink up!” she commanded, and this time, Tai obeyed, licking it off of her. “Fuck…Tai…oh gods…so fucking good…” She dropped the wine bottle, which was mostly empty anyway, and it rolled off the table, though it didn’t break. “C’mon…yeah…fuck me, Tai, fuck me…” 

One part of Tai remembered that Raven was like this: the more turned on she got, the filthier her mouth became. Usually it amused him, and made him want to stretch out the proceedings even more, so Raven would end up being incoherent by the end. Now, however, he found that it was turning _him_ on. His thrusts increased in frequency, if not rhythm, and he was now lifting her off the table by the hips. Raven was now yelling at him at the top of her lungs, cursing, her fingers raking down his back, leaving trails of abused Aura behind them. Zwei hid under the couch: thunderclouds had begun to gather, and lightning split the sky as a hard rain fell, the weather around their little part of Patch responding to Maiden powers. Trees swayed dangerously in the wind. A Nevermore, approaching the island, attracted by strong feelings of hate, turned around and fled in terror.

“Ah, _gods! TAI!”_ Raven screamed, her hands bracing herself against the table, which alternately melted and froze under her touch. Only her hands and head were still on the table; Tai had tucked her legs over his shoulders and had both hands clasping her rear. She gasped as she hit the edge and went over; the entire house shook and Zwei tried to tunnel under the couch even more, sure that he was about to die in the most horrific fashion a dog could think of.

“ _Raven!”_ Tai shouted. He gritted his teeth, his mouth opened in a soundless scream, and he came as hard as she had. He dropped her onto the table and tried to press himself even more into her, with the effect that the table finally collapsed, leaving them in the floor in the remains of splintered and smashed wood. Their Auras protected them from harm, but the table was a complete wreck. 

The storm dissipated, leaving behind it a few downed trees and minor flooding. The two of them lay among the remains of the table. Tai, with what little strength remained, slipped out of her, picked her up and carried Raven to the bedroom upstairs, where both dropped to the immaculate covers, utterly spent. Zwei, who decided he might just live after all, inspected the ruined table, found the remains of dinner, and helped himself; he deserved it, after all, after what the weird humans put him through.

For the humans’ part, they slowly got their breath back. “You…still…got it,” Raven puffed out.

“Yeah…you too.” Tai wanted to get up, but couldn’t.

“Gods, you’re so good, you’re…” Raven suddenly began crying. She tried to stop, tried to hold back, tried to tell herself it was just an emotional reaction to the most wonderful, hateful sex she’d ever had, but that was a lie. Fifteen years of suppressed regret and sorrow crashed down without warning. She began to bawl into the covers, into Summer’s covers, hating herself, wishing the Maiden powers would simply consume her from the inside out, leaving nothing of the cruel, evil thing she'd become. “Gods, Tai, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. About everything.” She looked up at him, tears slicked down her cheeks. “Except leaving.”

“Raven, _why?”_ Tai found himself crying as well. “Why did you leave?”

“Because I wasn’t good enough for you, Tai. Or Yang. I knew I’d just fuck up being a mom—I even told you. I told Summer. She was the woman for you, Tai. She always was. She was a good mom, the best mom, and I knew I could never measure up to that. Summer was my best friend…and I knew she’d be yours too.” Raven curled up into a ball, weeping uncontrollably. “She was so much better than me…and you deserved better than me. _Yang_ deserved better than me.”

“That’s not true,” Tai told her, rubbing her back, pulling her close to him. “You’re not evil, Raven.”

“I’m a stone-cold bitch,” she responded.

“No, Rae.” He used Team STRQ’s old nickname for her. “You convinced yourself that was what you were. You wanted us all to think that. But that’s not who you are.”

“I’m a coward.”

Tai kissed her tenderly. “Yes. Yes, you are.” He smoothed back her hair, took off her kerchief, and wiped her eyes. “But it’s not too late, Raven. It’s not too late. You can still come back from all this.”

She punched his chest, though there was no power behind it. “Damn you, Tai. Quit being so…so good.”

“Quit being so bad.”

She laughed at that. “Okay. I’ll fuck that up too, but…yeah, I’ll try.” She snuggled in close to him. “I’ll try.”

Exhaustion overtook both of them, and they fell asleep. A few hours later, Raven woke up. Tai was still sound asleep, and she didn’t want to disturb him—though looking at his naked body, she was sorely tempted to—and instead slipped out of bed. It was a warm night, and she didn’t feel like getting dressed; besides, her clothes were still downstairs. Instead, she walked naked down into the living room. Zwei, on his back and satisfied with himself, rolled over to inspect her. “Hey, dog,” she whispered, and knelt down again. “Sorry I was such a bitch earlier. Are we good now?”

The corgi got to his feet, and tentatively walked over to her. He sniffed at her outstretched hand, then licked it. Raven smiled. “We’re cool, then.” He let her pet him a little before pulling back, and Raven rose. She looked at the pitiful remains of what had once been a dinner table and sighed. Instead of looking for her clothes in that, she grabbed the wine glasses—which had miraculously not broken—and found two more bottles of wine. Then she sat down on the sofa, poured a glass, and drank. As she looked up, she saw a framed picture of Summer Rose on the wall. Raven raised the glass. “Sorry, Short Stack. Sorry I was such a piece of shit. But y’know, I meant what I said. You were so much better for him. And damn if you didn’t raise a pair of great girls. Yang’s a fine woman. Ruby’s going to be as good as you ever were, and is as beautiful as you were too, kid. Fucking love you, Summer.” She looked up at the ceiling. “And you know, if he lets me…and it’s okay with you…I’ll take care of him, Summer. I swear to the gods that I will. I won’t fuck it up this time. And if you come back…if you’re still alive…I’ll fly away. And it’ll be okay this time. Promise.”

There was no response, no sudden appearance of a ghost of Summer. Raven didn’t believe in things like that anyway. She toasted Summer once more, and drank. And drank some more. And some more after that.

And, after both bottles were consumed, Raven staggered over to the kitchen to find her clothes. Somewhere between drink number 12 and 14, she had decided to visit Yang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoof. Again, not a lot of funny in that chapter! I'll make the next one a lot funnier, I promise.
> 
> Well, I hope. Neo and Torchwick has the potential for being serious, too...but I'll see what I can do!


	77. Queen of Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman Torchwick and Neo Politan score a big haul. There's more than just the money that motivates Roman, though: turns out thievery is a major turn-on to a certain short assassin. 
> 
> Sometimes it's so good to be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, been thinking about another Neo/Roman chapter for awhile, and this one came together pretty well. Yes, I totally stole (line for line!) a scene from "Tombstone," but Roman Torchwick makes a good Doc Holliday--and Neo isn't a bad Kate. And "Phil the Faunus" is totally a reference to today's date! (Well, yesterday by the time you read this...)
> 
> In other news, I found out "One Night in Atlas" got a reference in TVTropes! Thank you, whoever did that. I won't mind some more references there, hint hint...

Roman Torchwick looked over his cards and smiled. “500 lien? Must be a peach of a hand.” The Faunus stared back with hate. Roman spun a poker chip on the table. 

“Damn you, Roman, are you in or out?” the man with the angry expression snapped.

“Why, Phil…you look like you’re just about ready to burst.” Roman’s smile got wider.

“Go on,” Phil demanded. “Show.”

Roman shrugged. “Well…I guess I’m deranged, but I suppose I’ll just have to call.” He laid down his cards: four of a kind. He winked at one of the bar girls, who was grinning at him. “Cover your ears, darling.”

The Faunus turned purple and shot out of his chair. “You son of a bitch!”

“Phil, just settle down!” one of the casino’s patrons shouted.

“Shut up!” Phil turned his attention back to Roman. “Take your money and get out. I’m tired of listening to your mouth.”

Roman leaned back in his chair, lightly tapping the head of his cane. “Why, Phil,” he said with a mock tone of worry. “Are we cross?”

“You don’t scare me,” Bailey replied, his fingers flexing. “You’re just a skinny two-bit thief, and without your gang, you’re nothing.” He looked around the bar. “And I don’t see any of your rent-a-thugs around.”

“Phil!” Roman exclaimed. “What an ugly thing to say. Does this mean we’re not friends anymore?” Roman piped his eye with his free hand. The other was still on his cane. “You know, Phil, if I didn’t think we were friends…I don’t think I could bear it.” He motioned the bar girl over, who sashayed up to the Faunus. “Come on, relax! Let her sit on your knee or something.” Phil took a step forward threateningly. The cane instantly came up, the top flipping open to expose the Dust-loaded gun within. Roman waited expectantly for a moment, then spun the cane and set it down on the poker table. He tapped it. “There. Now we can be friends again.”

Phil gave a nod, then lunged across the table at the thief—or would have, if there wasn’t the razor point of a blade at his throat; the blade was at the end of an umbrella. The bar girl was holding it…except it was no longer an anonymous bar girl, but a remarkably short woman, with pink and brown eyes and hair bisected into the same colors. She smiled and slowly shook her head. Phil raised his hands. 

“Well, hello there, Neo!” Roman stood and stretched, picking up the cane. “You’re not as dumb as you look, Phil.” He picked up a bag from the floor and scooped his winnings into it, which were considerable.

Roman and Neo backed out of the casino, Roman with the cane raised, just in case. Neo retracted the blade, but there was no one in the casino that had any illusions that she couldn’t kill within seconds: Neo Politan had a reputation as not only Vale’s deadliest assassin, but also one who would murder just as easily as she would walk down the street. As they left, Neo scooped up the piles of lien around the roulette wheel. Roman sighed in admiration. “My sweet mute heterochromatic devil.” He regarded the casino from its exit. “Well!” He tipped his bowler hat. “Good evening, then!”

Neo skipped out the door, while Roman followed at a more sedate pace, despite the knowledge that undoubtedly someone had already called the Vale police. To someone who regarded the police as a joke, that was not really a problem. He watched as Neo pranced up to a new arrival to the casino, on a rather expensive motorbike. Effortlessly, she leapt and kicked the man off his bike. “Neo, Neo, Neo…” Roman felt sorry for the man, and tossed him a few hundred lien for its trouble. “Terribly sorry,” he said as he got behind Neo. She snorted derisively and gunned the bike; Roman clasped her middle, set the bag of money between them, and held on as she peeled out onto the street.

They roared down the avenues at rather high speed; Roman took off his bowler and stuffed it in his coat so it wouldn’t blow away. In the distance, he heard police sirens, but at the speed they were going, it would take a Huntsman or a Huntress with a speed Semblance to catch them. Neo quickly got off the main streets, losing any pursuit in the warren of alleys and side streets of this area of Vale. One particular hard turn nearly flung him off the bike, and Roman grabbed at Neo for dear life. One hand accidentally grabbed a breast, but she didn’t seem to mind; through her shirt, he could feel the pebble hardness of her nipple. “You’re not wearing a bra?” he yelled into her ear. “How lewd!” Neo’s lips opened in a silent laugh.

They reached one of the Torchwick Gang’s many safehouses scattered through the city—an apartment building where the superintendent didn’t ask too many questions. Neo parked the bike three blocks away and he followed her to the building, Neo twirling and dancing the whole way. When they entered, she tossed the surprised superintendent a pile of lien, then continued her dance up three flights of stairs. 

They reached the nondescript apartment. The outside looked worn, the paint peeling, but the interior was a different story—decorated with expensive paintings, the bed a canopy one with silk sheets, all of it stolen. Neo did a cartwheel into the room as Roman closed the door behind them. He tossed the bag of cash on the sofa, landed the bowler onto its wall hook without effort, and took off his jacket, then sat down on the recliner, taking off his shoes. “That, Neo, was fun. What would you like to do for the rest of the evening?” He grinned, because he knew damn well what she wanted to do. A successful heist, especially one with the added spice of grand theft motorcycle, was a turn-on for Neo Politan. 

She set her umbrella against the wall, then spun to face him, kicking off her own shoes. Her hands worked in sign. _Who do you want me to be tonight?_ Roman translated. He chuckled. Sometimes, for fun, Neo would use her Semblance and disguise herself as other people—famous movie actresses, athletes, one night even as the assistant headmaster of Beacon Academy, Glynda Goodwitch. “No one, Neo. Just you.” It was fun every now and then, Roman thought, but he vastly preferred the real Neo Politan to any illusionary woman. 

She gave him a thumbs-up, then motioned him to stay where he was. As he watched, she began to sway to imaginary music. Slowly, she unbuttoned her pink and white blouse and let it fall; despite her diminutive height, Neo’s breasts were slightly larger than one might expect. She jiggled them for his pleasure, licked her lips, and now shimmied out of her pants, first letting the belt fall, then the slacks, with the same agonizing slowness that she had with the blouse. Now she only wore her sheer black corset; Roman whistled lowly, because Neo had eschewed her panties as well. The corset’s bottom barely concealed her smooth pubic mound; Neo shaved, just for him. She danced sinously for a few more minutes, then peeled down the corset. With a smile, she sat on the bed and drew up her knees. _Your turn,_ she signed.

Roman gave an elaborate and very fake sigh. “If I must.” He got up, and stripped as slowly as Neo had, though he didn’t dance. Neo’s eyes got larger and larger, and she clapped her hands gleefully as he pulled off his shirt, dropped his pants and stepped out of them, with his boxers following. He was already hard. Neo jumped off the bed, held out a hand for him to wait, then got the remaining lien out of the pockets of her pants. She scattered the lien across the bed, hopped on top of the money, and spread her legs. Her eyes half-closed, and she beckoned him forward.

Roman walked up to the bed and put his hands on his hips. “Now, Neo,” he said sternly, “you don’t know where that money has been. Are you sure you want to put your perfect skin and that very sweet little ass on dirty money?” Neo shrugged and pointed to his crotch, then hers. “What? No foreplay?” She frowned and once more pointed to his groin and then hers, more emphatically. “What if _I_ want foreplay?” He pointed to his erection. “You know I like it when you do oral, Neo.” Her frown deepened and she shook a fist at him, then repeated the pointing motions for a third time. “Oh, all right. You’re so demanding, Neo. I honestly don’t know why I put up with you.”

_Because I’m hot as hell,_ she signed, raising her eyebrows.

“True.” He crawled into bed, looming over her. She was a good foot and a half shorter, but that didn’t matter to Roman at all. “Kiss me, at least.” Neo raised up to give him a quick peck. “I suppose that will have to do.” He positioned himself. “Ready?” She nodded happily. He pushed in, just a little, then stopped. “You know, maybe we should wait. Get something to eat.” Neo graced him with a look that could freeze a supernova, and Roman bent down and kissed her pert nose. “I’m kidding, Neo.” Gently, he moved all the way into her. Neo closed her eyes contentedly. 

Roman made love to Neo slowly, savoring every movement, wanting to make it last. Her eyes opened, and at first she pushed back against him, clearly wanting him to go faster, but Roman was not to be hurried, and eventually she gave up. After awhile, he pulled out, worried that he might lose his balance and crush her; instead, he sat crosslegged. Neo gave him a nod, understanding, and straddled him, lowering herself onto him. “Mmmm,” she hummed, the only sound she ever made, but for Roman, that was more than enough. Now she controlled the pace, and Neo proved she could move slowly too. He bent down and licked at her nipples, and Neo’s head fell back with a gasp—the only _other_ sound she made. 

Now they started going faster, with Neo’s gasps becoming more and more frequent. He could tell she was getting close, and smoothed back her multicolored hair. “Look at me, Neo,” he told her, and she did. He watched those beautiful, mismatched eyes as the pupils dilated, and she visibly struggled not to close her eyes in sheer pleasure. Then her mouth opened in a silent scream, and Roman held Neo close as she clapsed him hard with every part of her body, her thighs squeezing his ribs almost painfully. He held her until she was finished. “My turn,” he whispered in her ear, and he felt her smile against his neck. She pushed him back onto the bed and rode him back and forth, until he could no longer take any more, and emptied himself into her. Neo watched him as he had watched her, then leaned forward to touch her forehead to hers. “I love you, Neo,” he said, with all sincerity, and she signed back _I love you too_ before she kissed him. 

After awhile, she rolled off of him to lay next to him, sated—for now, Roman mused, because Neo would probably be raring to go in an hour or so. Not that there was anything remotely wrong with that. She snuggled close to him, his body heat warming her. Idly, he ran his hands over the mounds of her rear. “You know what we haven’t done in awhile?” She leaned on her elbow, and shook her head. “A Dust robbery. We’re getting a bit low on the stuff.” Neo gave it some thought and gave a sort of noncommittal nod, then her fingers moved in sign language. _Not enough guys._

He grabbed her and rolled Neo onto his chest. She rested her head on her hands. “We’re not going to hit a government shipment,” he informed her. “There’s that Dust shop downtown—‘From Dust Til Dawn.’” He snickered at the name. “Just an old man down there.”

_Awfully close to Beacon. What if there’s a Huntress there? Classes start in a few days._

“Fine,” Roman gave in. “I’ll borrow some guys from Junior. They’re cheap enough.”

_Getaway plan?_ Neo tended to look at all angles.

“Stolen Bullhead. That Cinder Fall woman said she would help us. She’s a powerful Huntress on her own…just in case there’s any unforeseen, ah, issues.”

Neo grimaced. _I don’t like her. I don’t trust her. We should tell her to go away!_

“Neither do I. But who cares? We stick with her, Neo, and we’re going to have more money than we know how to spend in this lifetime.”

She didn’t look convinced, but then she gave him a leering look. She pushed herself forward and kissed him. “Hm?” She was clearly asking if he wanted to go again. “Gods, woman!” Roman protested. “Haven’t you ever heard of the male refractory period?” She shook her head, and her fingers found his penis and began toying with it. “You’re going to kill me, Neo. I swear.” He grabbed her and kissed her. “But what a way to die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should've listened to Neo, Roman...


	78. Virtuality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team RWBY finds out that they're minor celebrities on Remnant, and they decide to look themselves up on the internet. 
> 
> That may have been a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for this story should be pretty obvious. There's minor in-jokes here to the webcomic "Menage a 3," which is a pretty damn hilarious one, and "Megatokyo," which was a favorite of mine in college.

Weiss Schnee sipped at her coffee as she typed on the report to General Ironwood. It was routine, but good news: Amity Arena’s modifications were almost finished. She set down the coffee mug and sat back in her chair to stretch. Behind her, in her bunk, Blake Belladonna intently read _Ninjas of Love XII: By the Gods, It’s Full of Porn,_ while Yang Xiao Long was also indulging in literary research—in the form of a comic book. 

That left only one remaining member of Team RWBY, and it was a good thing Weiss had set down her mug, because the door flew open with a bang. Weiss nearly overbalanced her chair, Blake’s book ricocheted off the bottom of Yang’s bunk into the floor, and Yang just looked around the comic. “Hey, Rubes.”

“Guys!” Ruby announced excitedly, which was funny, because none of Team RWBY were guys. “You’ll never guess what Penny and I found out!” 

“Do you _have_ to do that?” Weiss demanded. “You could’ve just opened the door, you dolt!” After almost two years of knowing Ruby Rose, Weiss reserved the d-word now for special occasions. 

“Sorry!” Ruby apologized hastily. “But it’s so cool!” She rushed over to the computer desk, pushed Weiss aside with one hand—which landed distressingly on Weiss’ right breast. Ruby stopped. “Huh. Those are softer than I thought.”

“Why you—“ Weiss spluttered, but Ruby was already hammering away at the keys. She entered “Team RWBY” on the search bar, and hit return. “Check it out! We’re celebrities!”

Blake and Yang both swung out of their bunks. “We are?” Yang asked. They crowded around the computer. There were a number of hits—some news sites, which wasn’t all that surprising. What was surprising was there were a few fansites as well. “Whoa. We’ve got groupies?”

Weiss scooted back into place, fended off Ruby, and clicked on the first of the fansites. Much to their chagrin, the site was called _Follow Huntspeople._ It was a site for the people of Remnant that liked to read about Huntsmen and Huntresses, and their adventures. Most of the people on there were those that were more famous than Team RWBY—Glynda Goodwitch, for example—but Team RWBY was, at least, on the site. There were short bios on each of them, and a small picture. Blake looked at the hits on the site—it was a very popular one. “Well. Looks like we sort of made the big time,” the Faunus commented.

“Check out another one,” Ruby said, hopping up and down. “Penny and I found a whole bunch of them!”

Ruby wasn’t exaggerating. There was an Atlas-based site that covered Huntress fashion, and Weiss was front and center—though given her fame as the former heir to the Schnee fortune, and her singing talent, that was not surprising either. Blake was on there, in an article of _Exciting New Huntress Trends,_ and she turned a little red as Yang hugged her. “You made it, Blakey! Pretty good for an Atlas site to honor a Faunus!” 

Next was a site on unusual Huntsman/Huntress weapons, and Ruby was listed on there with Crescent Rose. Apparently she was the only person to use a scythe as a weapon—which she knew wasn’t true, because Qrow used one. They supposed that Qrow’s work was pretty secret, so he might not be in the spotlight as the former students of Beacon were.

On _RemnantTropes,_ one of Blake’s _Ninjas of Love_ fanfiction was honored with an entry. Blake’s face split in the biggest grin any of them had ever seen on the normally taciturn Faunus, and she practically hopped up and down in excitement.

There was a page that honored all the students of Beacon Academy. That one got them a little somber, since the first entry was Pyrrha Nikos.

Blake seemed to be cleaning up on the site entries, as _Menagerie Today_ also honored the Belladonna family.

Yang was a little disappointed—except for the entry on _Huntspeople_ , and the Beacon one, she wasn’t mentioned. But then they found a site called _Hottest New Talent,_ and Yang was on that one, all right—in at #15 on the list of the fifty most attractive up and coming women on Remnant. Each picture showed them in their battle uniforms. She did a fist pump. “Oh, hell yeah!” Weiss wasn’t too far behind, at #24, while Blake came in at a respectable #49. They commiserated with Ruby, who hadn’t made the list. Neither had Nora, which all of them agreed was totally unfair.

They found yet another site, which ranked all the Huntsman/Huntress Teams. Team RWBY was on the list (Team JNR was not, but it was only for full teams), but they were ranked well below Ace Ops, who was at the top.

“Well, that’s bullshit,” Yang snapped.

“Yeah, who made up this crap site?” Ruby wanted to know. “Atlas. Figures.”

“Jerks,” Blake growled.

“Rotten motherfuckers.” All of them turned at Weiss. She shrugged. “What? Am I wrong?” 

“Hey, I wonder if they’ve got any more pictures of us!” Yang reached forward and clicked on IMAGES. The pictures were indeed there, but aside from a handful of shots of them in their Beacon uniforms, all of them were in their battle uniforms. Disgustedly, Weiss and Ruby noticed they had made it on a few upskirt sites—though the best those sites could get on Ruby was the tops of her stockings and just the tinest hint of red panties, Weiss’ titanium white underwear was on full display. “I don’t believe this,” she hissed. “These pictures were taken when I was fighting Grimm! I was risking my life here, and some lowlife pervert is snapping pictures of my panties!”

“Told you your skirt was too short,” Yang said, elbowing Blake lightly, who smothered a smile. Certainly Ghira would have a coronary if he ever saw Blake in something that short.

“Don’t listen to her, Weiss!” Ruby reassured her. “Combat skirts rule.”

“Huh.” Weiss leaned back in the chair, fuming. “Well, best of luck to those degenerates, getting a picture of my undies in my current outfit.”

“Hmm.” Yang moved the mouse up to the SETTINGS tab and switched it to SAFE-SEARCH OFF. Privately, she was surprised it was on, given Blake’s tendency towards reading smut. 

“Um, Yang?” Ruby asked. “Is that such a good idea?”

Yang just laughed. “I’m just curious. I doubt anything’s going to come up. I mean, none of us have ever posed nude or anything.” She turned and leered at Weiss and Blake. “That I know of.”

Weiss gave her a look that promised a grisly death. “You’re an idiot. The Schnees have more class.”

“How about you, Blakey? You were young and you needed the money?”

Blake rolled her eyes. “Yang, I’ve either been running around with you characters, or I’ve been running with the White Fang. When in the hell would I have gotten the time to pose nude?” She pointed at her friend. “Don’t you _dare_ ask if the White Fang had a swimsuit calendar.”

“Too bad. Sienna Khan was kinda hot.” Yang refreshed the images. “Like I said, I’m just curious what comes…up…” Her voice trailed off in shock.

There _were_ nudes of Team RWBY. All of them. 

“That…this can’t be,” Weiss stammered. “I’ve…I’ve never…”

Blake peered closer. “None of these look like they’ve been taken with long-range cameras, and I certainly don’t recall going to any of Menagerie’s nude beaches.” Yang made a mental note that Menagerie had nude beaches. “They have to be fakes.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Weiss breathed. 

“Click on that one,” Ruby asked Yang. Now she was curious too. “Hey! How did people know that I shave down there?”

“They’re hoping,” Blake replied.

Ruby turned red. “Whoa. My boobs are _not_ that big.” She smiled. “I mean, I wish they _were…_ ”

“Yeah, someone had some fun there.” Yang clicked on another picture. “Speaking of ‘whoa, my boobs are not that big,’ someone has some imagination when it comes to my boob size. Those are _way_ too big.”

The rest of Team RWBY looked at the picture. “No, they’re not,” all three of them said.

Yang snorted. “You guys are just jealous—damn, Weiss! Look at you!”

Weiss turned red. “Those…those are gigantic! My spine would snap! My _sister’s_ aren’t that big!” She turned a deeper shade of red. “And I don’t shave…everything…”

“Neither do I,” Blake said, “but look there.” She shook her head. “That’s creepy. They even know I have a scar on my stomach.”

“Your old uniform showed a bit of that with the jacket off,” Yang reminded her. “But yeah, creepy.” She clicked through a few more pictures. All were altered, with the heads of Team RWBY put on nude models’ bodies—some crudely, some almost seamlessly, to the point that the girls had to do double takes. “Man, everyone must think Huntresses shave their pubes. I don’t get it.” She glanced at Weiss over her shoulder. “Ask Jaune sometime if guys like that.”

“I most certainly will not,” Weiss shot back.

“Fine…Ruby, you ask Oscar.”

“He’s biased because I…er…” Ruby looked away, her face the same color as her scythe. 

Yang snickered and scrolled down. “Oh, hey, now we’re getting into the kinky stuff. Check it out, Blake!” She pitched her voice lower theatrically. “They know, Blake. They _know.”_

“Know what—oh.” Blake’s ears went back. “Well, then. That’s a position we haven’t tried, Yang.”

“Mainly because it’s anatomically impossible,” Weiss put in. Then turned a little green. “Oh, gross! Ruby and me? That’s sick!” Ruby didn’t say anything, since Weiss had apparently forgotten that, once, they _had_ considered making love to each other, before being too embarrassed to go through with it.

“Gods, Weiss, don’t be such a hater.” Blake winked at Ruby.

“I’m not! I have nothing against same-sex relationships. But why in the name of the Good Brother am I sucking on Ruby’s _toes?”_ She clutched her stomach. “She doesn’t trim her toenails.”

“I do too!” Ruby protested.

“What, once every two weeks?”

Yang shook her head at their banter, then stopped on another picture. “Okaaay…”

“What is it?” Blake wanted to know.

“Nothing…except I have a dick.” All of them crowded closer. Weiss blinked. “And an impressive one it is.” She pointed. “Apparently Ruby does too.”

Ruby’s eyes got so big every Grimm within ten miles turned and fled. “Holy…that’s…I mean…that’s—“

“—gigantic,” Blake finished. She whistled lowly. “Ten inches, at least. If you became erect, you’d pass out from blood displacement.”

_“Ewww!”_ Ruby backed away. 

“And here’s one of Weiss getting banged by her knight.” Weiss lunged forward, thinking for a second that Yang meant Jaune. Instead, it was the Arma Gigas. She grimaced. “Arma Gigas doesn’t even have a penis.”

“How do you know? Have you checked?” Yang laughed. 

“Even if it does, I do _not_ want to be railed from behind by my own Semblance.”

There actually weren’t that many pictures, but they were alternately horrified and amused by them. There was nothing too horribly disgusting, at least—though someone on Remnant apparently thought that Ruby masturbated with Crescent Rose, which would likely be fatal. Yang clicked off the internet. “Ladies,” she said formally, “we have seen things that are not meant for humans or Faunus to see.”

“I’m contacting some lawyers,” Weiss said.

“I was thinking about breaking some fingers,” Blake added darkly. 

“Ah, girls, come on.” Yang waved it off. “It’s just a bunch of stupid pervs. Let’s not even think about it.”

Jaune Arc opened the door for Weiss Schnee. “Oh, hi, Weiss.” She was wearing her nightdress, which usually indicated this was a booty call. It had been three or four days, so Jaune was totally fine with that. Weiss entered the room, and after Jaune had closed the door, she took down the straps and let the dress fall down around her waist, exposing her breasts. “Jaune,” she asked, a little fearfully, “are my breasts…too small?”

Jaune needed to think about that, because that was a minefield if there ever was one. If he said no, Weiss would probably say he was lying, because all men loved large breasts--at least in her mind. If he said yes, she’d burst into tears. He found a diplomatic answer. “I don’t think so.”

“They seem rather small.” She cupped them. It was true that Weiss was not well-endowed, even if she had improved on the nearly flat chest she had at Beacon. She’d filled out—still behind Winter, and well behind her mother, of course. 

Jaune leaned forward and kissed both of them. “They’re yours, Weiss.”

She smiled and nodded. “Well, all right.” She let the dress fall the rest of the way to the floor. She wasn’t wearing underwear, but that wasn’t why Jaune’s eyes rounded. “You…you’re…” He couldn’t find the words.

“Shaved,” Weiss said. She ran her fingers over the smooth mound. “I thought you might like a change.” From the tent that was insistently forming in his boxers, Jaune evidently did. She stepped forward and kissed him, taking down his underwear at the same time. "Let's find out how that feels, shall we?"

“Brace yourself, Blakey!” Yang knelt on the floor, thrusting the strap-on forward. “For I have a dick! Bow before it! Worship it, Blakey! Prostrate yourself before the huge Xiao Long penis!”

Blake sat crosslegged on the carpet. Both were naked. She sighed. “Yang, look…maybe this sounds a little strange, but…could you take that off?”

“What? You don’t mind it other times.”

“Definitely not, but…” She uncrossed her legs, went over to Yang, carefully unstrapped the strap-on, and tossed it aside. “Tonight I want the real Yang Xiao Long.” She gently pushed her lover back on the carpet, and moved Yang’s thighs apart. 

“Well, okay.” Yang grinned down at her. “You know, _you_ could wear it.”

Blake hesitated, torn between using her tongue and using the equipment. Then she grabbed the strap-on. “You talked me into it.”

Yang got to her knees and began salaaming her friend. “I am at your disposal, Blake Belladonna of the Mighty Penis! Do to me what you will, Blake! Ravage me with your giant-sized man-thing! Ream me out as if I was Weiss and you were the Arma Gigas! Just no anal!”

Blake finished getting it fastened on. “Well, hell, Yang, that’s just a game changer for me.”

“Sorry, Your Royal Penisness, but the Yang Xiao Long Memorial Chocolate Highway is exit only!” Blake turned a little green at that euphemism. Then her ears flattened again, as Yang fastened her lips around the strap-on, and began sucking it. The Faunus put her hands on her hips. “Um, Yang…that’s not really doing anything for me.”

“Ifth nofth?” Yang took away her mouth and leaned back to the carpet, brushing her fingers over the blond curls at the junction of her thighs. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to try something else.”

“Prepare to get wrecked, Yang Xiao Long,” Blake warned, and moved forward.

Oscar Pine sat on the bed in his underwear. “Ruby, when you said you wanted to make love tonight, you really don’t have to dress up. I mean, seriously…I’m just going to take it off anyway.”

“Quiet!” Ruby ordered from the bathroom. “Your tongue is gonna fall out of your skull when you see this!” After another few minutes, Ruby pranced into the bedroom. “Tah-dah!”

Oscar was indeed speechless. Ruby was dressed in a Beacon Academy uniform, short skirt and stockings and all. Mere minutes after Team RWBY had been looking themselves up on the internet, Ruby had dashed to the Atlas Academy store. To her pleasant surprise, they actually sold uniforms for the other academies, for visiting students, and the store was actually trying to get rid of their Beacon gear…as that academy no longer existed. Ruby snapped it up for a low, low price, and now she was standing in front of her beau. “You like?”

“Uh…wow.” What Ruby did not know was that Oscar found short skirts incredibly sexy. What neither Ruby _nor_ Oscar knew was that Oscar had an Academy uniform fetish. At least Oscar hadn’t realized that until now, though he supposed his growing erection could be because it was Ruby wearing it. He reached out for her, but Ruby stepped out of his grasp. Slowly, with a smile on her face, she began inching the skirt higher and higher. Oscar’s tongue stayed in place, but she was a bit worried about his eyes, as Ruby revealed that she wasn’t wearing underwear either. He gave a noise somewhere between a growl and a whimper.

She bunched up the skirt around her waist and stood legs apart. “Take me now, Oscar,” she said breathily. With anyone else, Ruby’s high-pitched attempt at a sultry voice would’ve caused them to collapse in laughter, but with Oscar, it was like someone had fired a starter gun. His shorts went flying to parts unknown and he seized Ruby like he was Salem and she was a Relic. 

It was only later, after a lovemaking session that left both of them breathless and unable to move that Ruby realized wearing her school uniform while she was making love to the vessel of Headmaster Ozpin was, in fact, a bit weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something tells me that Team RWBY would be somewhat famous on Remnant. Even if most of what they've done is classified, people would know who they are.


	79. Feels Like the First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Velvet Scarlatina and Yatsuhachi Daichi have been dating for awhile, and they decide to take that next step in their relationship. The problem is, they're really not sure what that next step all entails. 
> 
> But they're sure going to have some fun learning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been teasing a Velvet/Yatsuhachi chapter for awhile, and I finally decided to get around to it. This one has some humor, but it's not the slapstick variety or the "Coco interrupts" variety. Instead, it's just some good old fashion fluffiness of two people who only sort of know what they're doing. If you're here to scream with laughter, you're probably reading the wrong chapter, but if you're here for just some "One Night in Atlas" style romance, then read on.

Velvet Scarlatina was both nervous and excited. She was nervouscited, though she wasn’t sure if that was a word or not. 

After tonight, she was no longer going to be a virgin. 

For the past few months, even before the Fall of Beacon, she and the enormous Yatsuhachi Daichi had been dating. After arriving at Shade Academy in Vacuo, their dates had become more and more serious, leading to makeout sessions and nearly more than that. Each time, one or the other had backed off, for fear of hurting the other emotionally and/or physically. Though their hands had roamed on occasion, neither had gotten the other’s clothes off—though Yatsuhachi had taken off Velvet’s shirt, he’d never gotten more than seeing her bra, and though she’d seen him in his underwear, that was as far as she’d gotten as well.

On their last date, however, they had made the decision: they would consummate their relationship. They were due to be heading out into the dangerous sands of Vacuo’s Black Desert, and neither wanted the distraction. On some level, Velvet had a feeling she was falling into the cliché of worrying she would die a virgin, but even if that was true, the simple matter was that she wanted Yatsuhachi, and he wanted her. That was good enough. They were adults, Huntress and Huntsman, and they could make that decision.

Or not make it. Velvet was wondering if she shouldn’t call it off. She paced the tiny room that was hers at Shade, excited at the thought of what was going to happen, and _terrified_ at the thought of what was going to happen.

Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer. She had to talk to someone, another woman, so that let out Fox, and left her team leader, Coco Adel. Besides, Coco was not exactly shy about recounting her own sexual experiences. Velvet took out her Scroll and called her. 

“Velvet!” Coco said happily. “What’s up?”

“Can I talk to you? Right now? It’s really important…and kind of personal.”

“Um, sure.” Coco’s voice now sounded curious. “Be right over.”

Velvet paced some more until Coco knocked on her door. Velvet opened it, let her in, looked around, and quickly closed it. Coco’s eyebrows went up. “Velvet, what is it? You’re acting like the proverbial one-legged dude in an asskicking contest.”

Velvet looked agitated, twisting her hands, then finally sat down on her bed, staring at the floor. Coco did the same. “Coco? I can talk to you about anything, right?”

Coco put an arm around her friend’s shoulder. “Uh oh. Sounds like girl problems. Aunt Flo in town? Surfing the red wave?”

“What? No!” Velvet looked a little green. “Yuck! Nothing like that!” Then she seemed to get smaller, her rabbit ears wilting. “Well…maybe a little.” She turned slightly. “You know Yatsu and I have been dating, right?”

“I’d be a lousy team leader if I didn’t,” Coco said. “Besides, you guys make googly eyes at each other all the time. Even Fox noticed.”

_Oh no,_ Velvet thought. Fox Alistair compensated for his blindness by using telepathy. He could read other people’s thoughts to a certain extent, and if he had read a few of Velvet’s thoughts, he probably would’ve been embarrassed. Or sickened. “Well, um…anyway…we were kinda thinking…maybe…tonight…we’d…well…you know…”

Coco did. She gave Velvet a sly look over the tops of her sunglasses. “You two are going to bang each other?” Velvet turned beet red. “Well, about time!” She slapped Velvet on the back, which drove the air out of her lungs. “I’m happy for you. Both of you.” She smiled. “Maybe a little envious.” At the moment, Coco didn’t have any lovers, and certainly no one serious.

“That’s just it, though.” Velvet rubbed her hands together nervously. “I don’t know what to do. I mean, I know what to _do_ ,” she said quickly. “I’ve read books, of course. But I don’t know…what it’s like. To…m-make love.”

Coco’s smile became a very lewd grin. “Velvet, you are going to _love_ it. You’re going to wonder why you waited so long. Having someone get you off rather than it being your fingers or toys…” She shivered in delight. “Gods, it’s like nothing in the world.”

“But…does it hurt?”

Coco looked at her strangely. “When you come? No, of course not, silly. You mean you’ve never done it to yourself?”

Velvet realized her team leader had gotten her signals crossed. “No, no…I mean, yes, of course I have, but…what I meant was, does it hurt when the guy, you know…sticks it in?”

Coco didn’t answer for a moment. Her expression became sheepish. “Er…I actually don’t know.”

“Huh? Coco, you’ve told me you’ve had sex dozens of times!” Actually, Coco had told the entire team, and a good portion of Beacon Academy, in excruciating and nauseating detail. Fox was always amused by it, Yatsuhachi would sort of ignore her after awhile, and Velvet would be extremely embarrassed. 

“Yeah, I have. With girls. I’m a lesbian, Velvet, as you know. I’ve never been with a guy.”

“Not once?”

“Not once. I don’t find them attractive. _Despite_ the fact that I slap Fox and Yatsu's asses all the time.”

“Oh.” Velvet’s shoulders slumped. 

Coco shrugged. “Okay, look. I’m gonna gross you out. Yeah, I’ve got lots of toys, and some of them…well, they _did_ break my cherry. It hurt a bit, but it wasn’t like blinding pain or something. I barely noticed, to be honest.” She spread her hands. “Really, Velvet, I don’t think that you have to worry so much about that. It might hurt a little, but it also might not hurt at all.”

Velvet brightened. “That’s good.”

“I’d be more worried about the fact that you’re kinda small and Yatsu is kind of…well…huge.” She spaced her hands apart. “And I don’t mean tall and muscular, though he’s that too.”

“He is pretty big,” Velvet admitted.

“Oh, you’ve seen him?”

The Faunus shook her head vehemently. “No. We’ve…we decided to wait on that. But you know, through his shorts…it’s kind of obvious.”

“I caught him changing once, by accident. He’s not small, Velvet. That could hurt some.” Privately, Coco hoped Yatsuhachi wouldn’t tear Velvet in half. She guessed that the big fighter was a good ten inches in length and pretty significant in girth. Everything on Yatsuhachi Daichi was king-sized. Coco smiled again. _Everything’s king-sized…including the big guy’s heart._ It would be all right. He would never purposely hurt Velvet. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t do it,” Velvet said.

“Well, just be careful…and use protection. I don’t want you getting a bunny in the oven when we’re headed out into the sands.” She paused. “Wait, I don’t think that came out right.”

“I understood you,” Velvet replied, with a small smile. “And yes, that part we’ve planned for. He's promised to bring some condoms. You know--”

“I know what they are, Velvet. What else have you planned for?”

“Well…” Velvet’s fingers did circles in her bedcovers. “We’re going to meet at a hotel. A nice one. Maybe put on some soft music, then we’ll kiss a lot, and then, well, it’ll happen.”

“That’s it?” Coco exclaimed. “Oh, no no no, my bouncing bunny BFF, that will simply _not_ do.” She grabbed Velvet by the hand and dragged her to her feet. “It’s your first time, and Yatsu’s, for all I know. It’s going to be special! No people on _my_ team are going to get it on without it being just right!” She continued to drag the Faunus out in the hallway. “I take away the girl, I shall return the woman!” Coco announced, to no one in particular.

Yatsuhachi Daichi, for the fourth time, stepped out of the elevator onto the fourth floor of the Vacuo Royal Hotel, and stopped. He nearly went back into the elevator again, but steeled himself. He had fought Grimm head on. He had fought members of Cinder’s faction in Amity Arena. He had watched Beacon fall. And now he was more scared than he’d ever been. 

Much like Velvet had with Coco—though Yatsuhachi was unaware of that—he had talked to Fox Alistair about the upcoming night. Fox, like Coco, was pretty happy that his teammates were finally taking the plunge; Fox was not a virgin himself, but he reassured Yatsuhachi that Velvet would be pleased with him no matter what. And that, as long as they took things slow, his chances of hurting the diminuitive Faunus were minimal. 

Yatsuhachi wasn’t worried so much about that. He was worried he wouldn’t be good enough. He was worried that he would be a disappointment—that he would ejaculate the moment she touched him, or as soon as he entered her, or that he wouldn’t be able to bring her to orgasm. He wanted Velvet’s first time—and his—to be just right. As much as he’d flirted with some of the girls at Beacon, he’d never actually slept with any of them. He’d been too afraid. He wasn't afraid of Velvet, just of disappointing or hurting her.

It took him ten minutes to cover the fifty feet between elevator and the room he’d rented for the night. Hands shaking, he knocked on the door, even though he had a key. “V-Velvet?” he said, his voice coming out more high-pitched than normal. He cleared his throat and repeated her name, in a more normal tone of voice.

“Come in,” she said.

Yatsuhachi opened the door, stepped in—and stopped. The room was lit up by dozens of candles. Soft violin music played in the background. And Velvet was lying in the bed, dressed—if one could dignify what little she wore as clothing—in lingerie. Her small breasts, her nether parts, were barely covered in lacy silk; an equally lacy garter belt was hooked to pink stockings. Yatsuhachi had been carrying flowers and chocolate, and both fell to the floor from nerveless fingers. He gaped in stupefaction at the sight before him.

“Um, Yatsu…please close the door,” she instructed. He nodded dumbly, then shook himself, and quickly shut the door. Velvet slid off the bed and stood shyly. “It’s a bit much,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry. Coco, well…she insisted.” She looked up at him. “Is it okay? It’s not too…lewd, is it?”

“Uh, sure,” Yatsuhachi replied. “I mean, no! No! Not at all.” He rubbed the back of his head. He was dressed in a suit, tie and all. “I just feel a little overdressed. I thought maybe we would, well, have something to eat first.”

Velvet gave a little laugh. “But not while I’m dressed like this. We’d both be distracted terribly, wouldn’t we?” She rubbed her feet together nervously. “I’m…I’m not really hungry, Yatsu.”

One part of him wanted to say he was, and rabbit was on the menu. But that sounded dumb, not to mention corny, so instead he carefully picked up and set aside the flowers and chocolate. “Neither am I.” Yatsuhachi took a deep breath, then began undressing. Velvet waited patiently, her hands behind her back, because she didn’t want him to see her shaking. Finally, he was down to his boxers. To her surprise, while there was a definite bulge there, it wasn’t the monstrous mountain she’d been expecting. 

They stood there, awkwardly, for a few moments, then Yatsuhachi gulped audibly, and quickly took down his underwear. Velvet’s eyes widened to comedic proportions. Coco had not been wrong, at all. “Oh dear,” she gasped. “Is it…does it get…bigger?” He didn’t look hard to her, but she didn’t exactly have experience with this sort of thing.

“Er, yes,” Yatsuhachi admitted. He was surprised he wasn’t rock hard either, rather than just sort of halfway there; it was probably because he was so nervous. 

“Huh.” Velvet was now sure there was no way Yatsuhachi was going to fit. If it wasn’t erect now, she could expect it would be roughly the size of her entire arm when it was--which was an exaggeration, but she didn't know. Still, they’d gotten this far, and if she ran screaming from the room, that would probably cause all kinds of problems…and she didn’t really want to anyway. “I guess…it’s my turn.” 

Yatsuhachi watched as she reached behind and undid her bra, letting it fall away. Her breasts were not large, though he thought they were nicely rounded. She struggled a bit with the garter belt, and then the panties, but finally she stood there, with the stockings the only bit of clothing between them. “Am I okay?” she asked softly. “I know I’m not gorgeous like Coco, or Yang, or anyone like that.”

“You’re beautiful,” he blurted.

Velvet smiled. “Thank you,” she said, with a little bit of tears. People had called her cute many times, both favorably and derogatorily, but rarely beautiful. “Right. I guess…we get on the bed?” He nodded, and Velvet climbed onto the spacious bed. For a moment, her backside was to him, and it was a rather nice backside, at that. She turned and gasped. The expression on Yatsu was like a glutton presented with an all-you-can-eat buffet, but that wasn’t what caused her to miss a breath. She watched as his penis hardened, and her hands went to her mouth. 

He realized what she was so aghast at, and covered himself. “Sorry! Sorry!” he apologized. “It’s just that you’re…so...beautiful.” He felt dumb repeating it, but it was true.

Velvet realized they were both being silly. This was what they’d wanted to do, and if they were going to lose their virginity, that was going to have to go inside of her. And she certainly was not going to cover her eyes or anything. “That's all right,” she reassured him. “Please, Yatsu.” 

“Of course.” He got on the bed next to her, and they lay facing each other. His hands reached hesitantly for her breasts, and she nodded. He carefully cupped them; they easily fit inside his large hands. Gently, he massaged them, and was surprised to see her peach-colored nipples slowly stiffen under his attention. “That feels pretty good,” she told him, and kissed him. At first, their kisses were hesitant too, but gradually they relaxed; this was known ground. Once they were over that hump, as it were, it got easier. Their hands roamed freely, and they got closer, until they were belly to belly, Yatsuhachi’s erection pressed between them, warm against her. “I think I’m ready to do this,” Velvet said.

“You should be on top,” he whispered. “Fox said it might be easier on you.”

“O-Okay.” Yatsuhachi lay on his back, and Velvet straddled him. Slowly, she lowered herself down, then stopped. “Um, Yatsu? We forgot something.”

“What did we—oh my gods!” He slammed his head back against the pillow. “Right. Protection. No problem. I have some condoms in my jacket.” He began to get up, but Velvet put a hand on his stomach. “Coco thought of it. In the box on the nightstand.”

Yatsuhachi leaned over and opened the box, which was marked with hearts and clouds, and read _HAPPY FAMILY SUPER,_ which seemed oddly inappropriate. He opened it, and it was his turn to get wide-eyed. There were an assortment of condoms—ribbed, ridged, prickly, edible, different colored, and something that looked like it belonged on a Grimm. “Er…which one?”

Velvet didn’t really feel all that adventurous tonight, and she damn sure wasn't putting the Grimm thing anywhere in, around, or near her body. “Just the ribbed one.” He nodded and got it out, tore open the package, and withdrew the condom. They stared at it for a moment, then Yatsuhachi rolled it on. “I guess that’s right. Leave the reservoir at the top?”

“I guess so,” she answered. 

“Ready?”

“Here we go…” Velvet lowered herself again. She stopped when she felt the head touch her opening, closed her eyes and swallowed, and pushed down. He entered her, and slid in—luckily, the kissing had gotten her prepared, and she was far from dry. Yatsuhachi closed his eyes, controlling his breathing. It wasn’t easy, because she was starting to envelop him, but Yatsuhachi learned he could control himself.

She drew in her breath sharply. Yatsuhachi opened his eyes. She had stopped, with about one-third of his length inside. “Are you all right?”

“I think so.” She pushed down a little more. She couldn’t keep the sudden grimace off her face. A little more. She bit her lip. Just a little more. “Aagh!” The cry escaped her lips involuntarily. 

Yatsuhachi sighed. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”

“No!” Velvet insisted. “I’m okay! It feels great!” She pasted a smile on her lips. "It's soooo good."

He slowly shook his head. “You’re not a very good liar, Velvet.”

She hung her head in defeat. “You're right. It hurts,” she finally said. “I’m so sorry, Yatsu.”

“That’s all right. Truly.” Gently, he helped her pull himself out of her; he looked at the condom. There was no blood on it. He didn’t know what that meant, exactly; he’d expected some blood and pain, because that was what the books said. 

Velvet knelt next to him and started to cry. “I’m sorry, Yatsu. I’m just too small.” She looked up at him, tears staining her cheeks. “What are we going to do?”

He sat up and wiped her face. “Velvet, it’s fine.”

“But I want you, Yatsu! I do! I wanted this, I swear!” She buried her face in his shoulder. “I wanted this…”

Yatsuhachi reached down and pulled off the condom, which elicited another sob from Velvet; the night was over, and they’d failed. He kissed her forehead. “We’ll find a way, Velvet,” he reassured her. “There’s probably exercises, or something. I’m sorry I’m too big.” He hugged her. “I was afraid this might happen.”

“Me too.” She wiped her eyes. “Dammit. Shit!”

Yatsuhachi burst out laughing, despite himself. Velvet rarely cursed, and to hear her do so was very out of character. She looked up at him, and then started laughing too. “This sucks!” she exclaimed. 

“It certainly does,” he agreed, but he was smiling. “Well, Velvet, perhaps we can’t have penetration—yet—but I can think of other things we can do. If you still want to.”

“Well, I guess we could get something to eat…” With one large paw he pushed her down to the bed. “Wait a minute…what are you doing?”

Yatsuhachi had a very Cocolike thought. “Going out to eat.” He pushed her thighs apart and leaned down. 

Velvet watched, her ears standing straight up in alarm. “You don’t mean you’re going to…” Then his tongue was on her. “Oh dear,” she said, as electric tingles ran through her whole body. “Uh, Yatsu…I showered, so it’s clean down there, and I guess you can…oh dear. Oh my.” She began to tremble. “Um…do I taste all right? I don’t want you to keep going if I don’t taste very good.”

Yatsuhachi left off from her. “Velvet, you’re fine.”

“Oh. Well, in that case, please don’t stop.” She grabbed some pillows and stuffed them under her head. “Um, Yatsu? Is it okay that I didn’t really shave or trim or brush or whatever I’m supposed to do down there? Because I can. I know that guys don't like...um...er..." Her toes curled. "They don't like...hair...ah. It wouldn’t take but a…oh…a minute or…oh….” 

Not that Yatsuhachi had any experience in the matter, but he’d read in books that some women were screamers during sex, and some were completely silent. Some would make little noises, and some were quiet until they got close, and then would start moaning and groaning. Some, he’d even read, were loud and filthy-mouthed, though he was sure he didn’t know anyone like that. (Faraway, in Patch, Yang Xiao Long sneezed.) 

Velvet, however, just seemed to apologize more profusely the more turned on she got. He could recognize the signs—Yatsuhachi had indeed done quite a bit of research on this subject. Velvet’s skin started to flush from her breasts to her neck, her vulva became darker, her pupils were dilated, and he was fairly certain she was getting wetter. “Yatsu,” she gasped, “my breasts aren’t too small, are they? I know men like big one—oh. That was…hmmm. They like…errgh…big ones…like Yang’s…and Professor GoooOOOD…” Her fingers bunched in the covers. “Um, Yatsu? I’m sorry, but…I…I…think…I think I’m…sorry…I’m going to…you might…oh…here…” Then she stiffened, from the tops of her ears to her toes, going completely rigid. He pulled back as Velvet hit her peak, but she made no noise, though her eyes were huge and her body shook uncontrollably. Finally, she blinked. “Oh.” She rose up to look at him, and smiled. “How about that?” Yatsu waited, as she lay back down. “That was…wow.” Then she looked up again. “Yatsu, I’m sorry, I know that we’re supposed to scream and say things—I mean, Coco doe—well, I mean—“

Yatsuhachi laughed and lay down next to her. “You’re you, Velvet. You don’t do anything but what you feel like doing.” He felt more confident now. Velvet was happy; he'd pleasured her.

“It’s just…when I…you know…I just sort of get stiff. Sometimes I will maybe moan a little, or something, but tonight, it was just…kind of overwhelming.” She turned to face him. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is.” Then they both looked down as something twitched against Velvet’s thigh. Velvet hesitated, then reached out and touched it. It was hard and warm, and moved under her hand. “I need to do something about this, shouldn’t I?”

Yatsuhachi was generous, and always tried to think of others first, but he was only human: he nodded. He sat up, crosslegged, and Velvet peered at his manhood, fascinated. Her soft brown eyes traveled its length, then looked curiously at his testicles. Then she did it again. Yatsuhachi was now the one to start shaking: her eyes roaming his erection was more erotic than her hands. “It’s throbbing,” she commented. “That’s really interesting.” Then she left off her visual hammerlock. “Okay, sorry. I’m just really curious.”

“It’s okay,” he croaked.

“Hmm.”

“You can use your haa---aaa---“ Yatsuhachi nearly leapt into the ceiling, as Velvet decided that fair was fair, and fastened her lips around the head. Her mouth wasn’t going to fit it either, but she got enough in, and her tongue did the rest. By thinking of advanced trigonometry, he was able to hold on, until Velvet also decided that her hands need not be idle. Ten seconds later, and there was no going back. “V-Vel-Velve—“ he struggled out. _Oh gods,_ he thought, _this is not good for our first time!_ He had a sudden vision of Velvet choking, then throwing up all over him.

Luckily, Velvet might have been naïve, but she wasn’t stupid. She felt him surge, and took her mouth away. He ejaculated a second later, and Velvet pumped him, watching until he was done. Most of his seed got on her hand and on his groin, but some ended up on her breasts. She didn’t seem to mind. Yatsuhachi’s head fell back on the headstand. “Velvet…oh my gods…that was…I don’t have the words.”

Velvet held up her hand. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when she brought a finger up to her mouth and licked some of his semen off experimentally. “That tastes very odd,” she informed him. “Not bad or anything, just different.” Then she hopped off the bed and went into the bathroom, washed her hands, and wetted a towel; Velvet came back and dried him off, then lay down next to him.

They lay next to each other in silence for a few minutes. “So that’s sex,” she said.

“Part of it, anyway.”

She nodded. “I like it. Coco’s right…why did we wait so long?”

Yatsuhachi nodded as well. “I'm glad we did. It was wonderful, Velvet."

She snuggled close to him. “I think we’ll have to try it again.” She caressed his broad chest. “I’m still sorry we didn’t do the, well, the thing. But I’m happy, Yatsu. I’m happy to be with you.”

He kissed her. “We’ll get there. I promise.” He gently caressed her ears. “Now, about these…”

She giggled. “They’re just ears, Yatsu. Just…” She gave a start as he experimentally licked one. “Oh. I didn’t know they did that.”

“I hope I’m not being offensive,” he told her.

She giggled again and gave him a peck on his nose. “Not in the least.” She poked his chest. "For you, Yatsu, you can mess with my ears all you like." She bent down and licked one of his nipples, suddenly feeling _very_ bold. "Or anything else."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww. I don't know if they'll become a canon couple, but they should. Will they get over their little (actually, big) problem? Where there's a will, there's a way.
> 
> Could use a few suggestions...it's been awhile since I got Salem drunk and horny, but not sure where to go with that.


	80. Moonlight Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks after the fall of Beacon, Yang is morose and can't sleep. She needs something, anything--some kind of release for all the tension and anger she's got boiling inside of her.
> 
> And then Jaune walks in...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went absolutely *nowhere* I thought it would go. I was checking out some Dragonslayer fanart today, and thinking "Hey, maybe I should get out of the usual pairings and have Jaune and Yang hook up. It's not like I care about canon in this fic." But then I started writing it. 
> 
> There's not a lot of humor in this chapter, either. It's a pretty feels chapter...but it *is* Valentine's Day, after all. The next one will be funny, I promise--last week's episode gave me all kinds of ideas for Salem and Emerald. No spoilers, but it looks like the "fun dungeon" is now sort of canon...at least from Salem's POV, anyway.

Yang watched from her bed as the moon went in and out of the clouds, and sighed. She couldn’t sleep. 

It had been two weeks since the fall of Beacon. Two weeks since Adam Taurus had sliced off half her arm and part of her soul. Two weeks since Pyrrha Nikos and others she’d called friend had been killed in battle, and her own sister knocked unconscious. Ruby, at least, had made a full recovery, but others wouldn’t, ever. 

Two weeks since Blake had run away.

Yang angrily commanded herself to stop thinking about Blake. She sat up in bed and drew up her knees, resting her head on them. Maybe she needed to get up and move around. Fix something to eat, although she’d eaten dinner—by herself, again, listlessly spooning food into herself, mainly out of habit than need. Do something to calm her mind and let her get back to sleep. She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. Maybe the first step was to at least change clothes; she’d been in the orange T-shirt and black shorts for over 24 hours. 

Yang got out of bed and stripped naked, tossing her clothes and underthings into the hamper. It wasn’t easy to do with one hand. The stump of her right arm was healed—mostly—but it still hurt when she slipped the T-shirt over her head. Still, she managed. She pulled fresh clothes out of the drawer of her dresser, but stopped and regarded herself in the mirror on her wall.

The girl that stared back really didn’t look all that different from the girl at Beacon. Her blond hair was still a wild mess, complete with the one strand of hair that refused to lay down no matter what. She still had a figure that made men and the occasional woman into gibbering idiots: comparatively tall, muscular but not muscle-bound, slender but not emaciated. She still had the breasts that were the envy of Team RWBY, among others; still had the long, well-shaped legs that were rivaled only by Weiss and Pyrrha. Other than the missing half of her right arm, everything looked the same. So why did she feel like she was missing more than just an arm?

It was the eyes, Yang decided. Her lilac eyes were still the same in appearance, but when she tried an experimental smile, it didn’t reach those eyes like it did before. Her eyes seemed dead, to the point that Yang looked away, rather than face herself. Beauty was more than just skin deep, Yang remembered, and if so, she was now the ugliest woman on Remnant. 

Yang shuffled back to bed, tossed the clean clothes next to her, and lay there, staring at the ceiling. It brought back a memory, and despite herself, she couldn’t help but remember. 

It had been one night at Beacon, after she’d gotten done taking a shower, and realized that she’d forgotten her towel. Modesty or shame were not words in Yang Xiao Long’s vocabulary, and she had, by that time, accepted the rest of Team RWBY as sisters as much as Ruby herself. So Yang had used two hand towels to dry herself off, and walked into the dorm room stark naked.

Ruby had glanced up from her comic book, rolled her eyes, and went back to reading; her older sister’s body was no mystery. Blake had glanced up from _her_ book, and went beet red, quickly burying her face behind the book in embarrassment—why, Yang didn’t know, since they’d all seen each other naked, either in their own dorm bathroom or in the gym showers. Weiss, working on homework—as usual—looked up and shook her head, though she turned a little red as well. “Really, Yang,” she’d admonished the blonde, “have you no shame?”

“Nope!” Yang had replied, and hopped up onto her bunk bed and lay there nude, mainly to needle Weiss a little. The Schnee heiress had gone back to her homework, muttering about how people from Patch really needed to learn propriety. Yang had decided to mess with her a little more. “Girls, we should talk about sex.”

Blake had said nothing, very loudly; Yang couldn’t see her, but would bet fifty lien she was trying to hide behind her book, red as Ruby's cape. Ruby let out a “Yuck!” and turned away from her sister—either because she was genuinely disgusted, or ashamed of her own inexperience. Weiss turned around in her chair to give Yang a murderous look—but one that the brawler was pretty sure was _also_ a mix of digust and envy. Yang was not a virgin herself, and she suspected Blake wasn’t either; Ruby was definitely a virgin—or she’d better be, Yang thought darkly—and she was pretty certain Weiss was one as well. Schnee heiresses didn’t have fumbling losses of virginity in the dark. “Why, in the gods’ name, should we talk about sex?” Weiss had demanded.

“When you’re naked and staring at the ceiling, what else do _you_ think about, Weiss?” Yang grinned as she remembered the blush on Weiss’ face spread a little more—indicating that Weiss _had_ thought about that very thing a few times. Instead of answering, Weiss turned back to her homework with a sniff of disdain. Yang decided the joke had gone far enough, and had gotten dressed.

The memory brought a smile to Yang’s face, and as she lay just as naked in her bed, she started indeed thinking about sex. She stared down at herself, and experimentally, gently pinched one of her nipples. She watched it get hard, and felt her breathing increase a little. She shrugged to herself. _Why not?_ She hadn’t gotten off since before Beacon fell, and it might help her sleep. Seized with a desire for herself she couldn’t quite explain, Yang got back out of bed, stood before the mirror, and looked at herself again. She moved her remaining fingers down, over her breasts, through the tangle of blond hairs between her legs, and leaned back a little to open herself up. Her fingers found the sweet spot and began rubbing against it. It felt good, and Yang needed to feel good. Desperately so.

She tried to take it slow, but the desire blossomed in the pit of her stomach a lot sooner than she thought, and the intensity of her fingers’ movements increased; she bent over a little to gain better access, and more friction. Her fingers were rough, angry, and just what she needed to feel. Yang swayed on her feet and bit her lip to stop a loud moan. The stump of her arm moved, and Yang realized it was pure muscle memory: normally, when she masturbated, she would use one hand down below, while the other played with her nipples.

It also killed the mood. Almost as soon as the desire had taken hold, it evaporated. “Dammit, no,” Yang whispered, and started moving her fingers even faster, pushing them inside, willing the good feeling to come back, demanding it—but it was gone, and she was left standing there, feeling like a fool, with her fingers still inside of her.

And then her door opened. Yang moved to dive under her covers, thinking it was her father—Taiyang was open minded, but Yang was very certain he _never_ wanted to see his daughters naked and pleasuring themselves. Then Yang stopped, because it wasn’t Taiyang. 

It was Jaune Arc. 

Jaune had arrived with Ren and Nora the day before, obstensibly to check on how Ruby and Yang were doing. Yang suspected that the real reason was that Ruby was going to sneak away, to go track down Cinder Fall—Pyrrha’s killer—herself, and the remaining members of Team JNPR were going with her. They had visited Yang, expressed their sympathy and offered to help with her rehabilitation, but they had also brought memories that Yang didn’t want. She’d been noncommittal at best and hostile at worst.

He stared at her, eyes wide, then rubbed his eyes and blinked, as if he was seeing things. He was only wearing a pair of loud orange boxers. Yang couldn’t help herself: her eyes roamed over him. Jaune was not the skinny noodle he’d been called by Cardin and the others at the beginning of their time at Beacon: constant training with Pyrrha, as well as fighting Grimm on missions and at the Battle of Beacon, had filled him out some. The skinniness had been replaced with muscle—he was no Cardin Winchester or even Dove Bronzewing, but he was no longer the Jaune that had tripped over his own feet. 

Jaune finally found his voice. “Oh my gods, Yang, I am _so_ sorry. I went to the bathroom, and I’m all turned around. I thought this was my room, and I’m really sorry about coming in here, and please, I’m so sorry and please don't kill me—“

On some level, Yang realized that her lizard brain (or whatever Weiss had called it) was merely transferring her need for sex from her fingers to Jaune. She knew that Jaune might be attracted to her physically, but not mentally: he loved Pyrrha, not her. And at that moment, Yang also knew that she didn’t care. She had to have Jaune Arc. Now. 

Yang moved quickly, quicker than she had since Beacon. One foot kicked the door shut. She used her body to shove Jaune against the wall next to the door, and her lips to kiss him, harder than she’d ever kissed anyone. Feeling Jaune’s body against hers reignited the desire like pouring gasoline on a bonfire. “Ymngf!” Jaune tried to yell, but she smothered him with more kisses. With her hand, she grabbed the hem of his boxers and tugged it down to his knees, wanting nothing more than to grab the appendage that hung there and jam it into her as hard as it would go.

Jaune, for his part, wasn’t exactly sure what to do. Every straight guy in Beacon—and maybe some of the gay ones too; he didn’t know—would face a horde of Grimm armed only with a toothpick for a chance to have a naked Yang Xiao Long trying to devour him. It was just so very sudden. One moment, he’d been half asleep, stumbling back to his room, opening what was clearly the wrong door, and coming upon a naked Yang with her remaining hand between her legs. The next moment, she was slamming him against the wall, pushing her tongue halfway down his throat, and pressing those magnificent breasts against his chest—while the aforementioned hand grabbed at his penis and began trying to either rip it off or pull it into hardness…and it was working, at least for the latter.

Finally, he managed to pry her off long enough to come up for air and get a word in edgewise. “Yang, what the hell—“

“I want you,” she panted. “I’ve got to have you, Jaune. Right now.” She brought a leg up against his ribs and pushed his head down towards her breasts to encourage him. “Fuck me, Jaune.”

“But…Yang…I shouldn’t…”

“For the love of the gods, Jaune, dammit, fuck me!” Yang barely kept her voice down; Taiyang also wouldn’t appreciate it if his daughters banged one of their friends under his roof. 

Jaune swallowed. He was rock hard, and Yang was trying to push him into her. He felt a little faint as the head of his swollen penis found her opening. All it would take was a single thrust, and he would be in Yang Xiao Long, and there would be no stopping what came next—which, Jaune was sure, would either be himself or Yang, possibly both, and it probably would not take long for him. Every instinct screamed for Jaune to take her, right there against the wall, to feel her envelop him, to have that wonderful body pressed against his, just like Pyrrha when she'd kissed him that last time.

And Jaune gently pushed Yang away. “I can’t,” he said softly. “It’s not right, Yang.”

Her eyes shifted to red, and her hair began to smolder. “You fucking asshole.” She whirled away from him. “Yeah, I get it. It’s because I’m not a complete girl anymore, right?” She turned back to him, eyes blazing, teeth bared, and waved the stump at him. “One armed girls don’t get fucked, right?”

Jaune pulled up his boxers, took two steps forward, grabbed a surprised Yang by her shoulders, and kissed her, just as hard as she’d kissed him. When he pulled back, her hair and eyes started to shift back to their normal color. “Yang,” he said, as serious as she’d ever heard Jaune, “I want you right now more than you’ll ever know. You’re still one of the most beautiful girls—women—I’ve ever met. And if I thought you were in your right mind, and I was too, I’d make love to you right here on your bed. I want to, gods know. But I can’t. I mean—I won’t.”

Tears filled Yang’s eyes. “But why, Jaune?”

“It’s not because of that.” He gently took the stump and kissed it, just above the bandages that hid the wound. “You’re still just as complete and pretty and awesome as you’ve always been, Yang. You just don’t think of yourself like that. I don’t know why you hate yourself so much. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“The hell it wasn’t,” she murmured. In her mind, she relived the moment she’d charged Adam Taurus, saw the blood-red blade come out of its scabbard, and knew in that second that she was too slow. Then there was the blinding pain, and the welcome curtain of unconsciousness. She sat down on her bed, defeated. It wasn't her missing arm at all. “It’s Pyrrha. Dammit.” She looked up at him and smiled sadly. “I get it now, Jaune. Yeah…and that’s okay. Really. I’m sorry.”

Jaune sat down next to her. “It’s not _just_ Pyrrha,” he admitted. “Yeah, she’s part of it, but…gods, Yang, even Pyr wouldn’t expect me to never be with another girl until I die. And I think she’d be okay with it if it was you. But Yang, I can’t make love to you when you hate yourself.” He looked down at his hands, in his lap. His erection had faded. “And if I sleep with you, it can’t be just fucking, Yang. I’m not like that.” He laughed softly. “I wish I was. I’d have a lot more memories than just some stupid messing around with Pyrrha, like we had all the time in the world or something.”

Yang leaned against him. She wasn’t the only person who had come away from Beacon badly wounded. “I know you’re leaving tomorrow, Jaune.” He began to protest, but she shook her head. “You are. Don’t worry, I won’t tell Dad. Ruby’s being stupid, but…”

“Come with us,” Jaune said.

“I’m a liability to you right now.” Yang suddenly leaned over and began to cry. She hated to do it; she hated crying at all, because it was weak and only weak people cried. She slammed her hand against her knees, trying to stop the tears. “You’re leaving me, you and Rubes and Ren and Nora. You’re leaving me like everyone else. _Everyone_ leaves me. Mom left me, Raven left me...Blake left me…” The name escaped her lips without her meaning to say it. “Everyone.”

She felt the warmth of Jaune’s arm around her. “We have to leave, Yang, but we’re coming back.”

“Is that what Pyrrha said?” Yang grimaced, then sobbed some more, hating herself even more. “Dammit, Jaune, I’m sorry, that was a shitty thing to say.”

“She didn’t say that,” Jaune told her. “She knew it was a one-way trip. But Pyrrha went because she wanted _us_ to be able to come back, even if she knew she wasn't. We can’t hide from it, Yang. We’ve got to go do this, and as soon as you can…you’ll come with us.”

“I’ll never fight again.”

“Yes, you will.” Jaune’s voice was stern. “You will, Yang, because you’re too good of a person. You’re too strong. You love people too much to hide.” He brushed her hair, trying to comfort her. “And we love you. Maybe not like you wanted me to a minute ago, or like Ruby loves you, but we do, Yang. And Blake…she does too. She’s just…I think Blake’s just scared. But she’s too good to stay scared for long.”

“Don’t talk about her,” Yang growled.

“Okay.”

Yang shook her head. It was impossible to get mad at someone who was that ready to agree—or someone who was telling the truth. She dried her eyes and grabbed her underwear. “I’m really sorry, Jaune. I’ve been…I was stupid there. Just needed something, and you were there, and…” She sighed. “And I’m a stupid bitch.”

“No, you’re not. Please stop saying that.”

“Okay.” She gave him a faint smile, then on impulse, a kiss on the cheek. She was quiet for awhile, just enjoying the warmth of his arm around her. “You know something...maybe you're right," she finally spoke. "I don't know about Bla--about her. But the other stuff. Maybe you knocked some sense into my head.”

Jaune smiled back and rubbed the back of his head. “Er, anytime. Though, uh, maybe not when you’re naked.” He looked at her for a long moment, then quickly stood up. Yang noticed that he was getting erect again, and turned away as best she could. “Hey, I’m gonna head back to my room…unless you want to talk some more, or something.” When she didn’t answer, he started to walk towards her door, when her hand suddenly grabbed his wrist. 

“Stay with me tonight.” Her voice was so faint he almost didn’t hear it. He turned around, and the expression on Yang’s face was one that he thought he’d never see: she was pleading. “Please, Jaune. Not to have sex…I just need someone with me. I've been alone...I wanted to be...but not tonight.” She gave a sort of half-shrug. “And, you know…if you want to make love…we can.”

“I’ll stay,” Jaune said. “But we’d better set the alarm. If your dad or your sister catches me in here…”

“Sure.” Yang got up, walked around the bed, and got under the covers. Jaune did the same. Yang didn’t get dressed; she was still very much naked. He slipped into the bed next to her, but turned away, so that his back was to her. Yang understood. His warmth flowed into her nonetheless, and she smiled. To her surprise, sleep came quickly. 

Yang slept well, the best she had since Beacon; no nightmares of a monstrous Adam plagued her, no phantom pain from an arm that was no longer there. Sometime during the night, she thought she felt Jaune’s arms around her, and maybe something hard against her rear, and she turned over, ready for him. But he was gone, and the bed was empty, and there was sunlight streaming through the window. There was a note on her nightstand. _We love you, Yang,_ Jaune had written on a bookmark that Blake had given her. _We’ll be waiting for you._ She teared up at that, wondered when Jaune had slipped out, or if Ruby had said a silent goodbye to the sister she loved more than anything. Yang wondered if the arms around her was just a dream, and decided that it didn’t matter. She cried a little more, for Ruby.

Once she'd finished weeping, she found her fingers drifting downwards again, and Yang chuckled at herself. “Okay, okay…I hear you.” Gently, slowly, she brought herself to orgasm, sighing with the release her body and mind had needed. Normally, Yang was something of a screamer, and tended towards yelling filthy words very loudly—but this time, she had been almost completely silent, with only a soft smile and closed eyes betraying her pleasure. Afterwards, she leaned back in her bed, thinking. She lay like that a long time.

Yang’s door flew open, admitting a very flustered Taiyang; she was glad the covers were up over her bosom, hiding her nudity. “Yang!” he yelled. “Ruby’s gone! So are the others!” He brandished a note; even from this distance, Yang could tell her sister’s writing. Not even Beacon had been able to cure her lack of penmanship. 

“I know, Dad,” she told her father, and smiled. “It’s going to be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoof. That was pretty intense to write, and kind of rough. There were a lot of twists and turns--originally, it was going to be Yang retelling the story of how she and Jaune had actually slept together to Blake, and why neither of them had talked about it--but then I realized that, even with the very loose canon of "Love Hurts," I've emphasized that Jaune probably did get to at least the fooling-around stage with Pyrrha, but really has only had actual, penetrative sex with Weiss. So Blake's scene got cut (sorry, Blake), but I still intended Jaune and Yang to hook up. Then as I was writing it, it just felt as wrong to me as it did to Jaune. So we went with that they did sleep next to each other, and that was it. (Jaune probably did end up holding Yang, and she felt his morning wood...but that was when he left.) Yang then ended up finishing herself off, but in a loving, forgiving manner--she isn't punishing herself anymore.
> 
> Well, at least we know it all turned out in the end. Again, next one will be just silly, either some spoileriffic stuff with Salem and Emerald, or maybe it's time the guys got together and started comparing notes on their ladies--and not just Oscar, Ren and Jaune. We haven't seen Marrow in awhile...


	81. We Belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang confesses to Blake that she tried to seduce Jaune back in Patch. Blake admits she has some secrets of her own. As they discuss where to go next, Weiss comes in, and Blake has an idea. It's probably a bad idea, but Team RWB agrees: it's high time they did something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you folks demanded a sequel to the last chapter, so here it is. I have a feeling that you're either going to love this one or hate it. Or hate to love it, or love to hate it...something. It's one of the longest chapters of this fic, so there's a lot here--and all kinds of ships.

“So that’s what happened between me and Jaune,” Yang confessed. She swirled the Atlesian schnapps around in the shot glass, tossed it back, and looked up at Blake, pain in her eyes. “I hope you’re not mad at me.”

Blake, nursing her own drink, smiled and shook her head. “Why should I be? Gods, Yang. We weren’t together yet. We didn’t even know _what_ we were then—even if we were still friends.” Her hands began to shake, and she took a shot of the schnapps. “That was my fault. I’d be one hypocritical bitch if I got mad at you for banging Jaune before we even slept together. That would be like you getting mad at me for being with Adam!” She paused, then reached out and poured another shot. “Or Sun.”

Ruby, who was sitting between them, her own shot cradled in her hands untouched, whirled around to look at the Faunus. “Whoa, you slept with Sun?”

“Yes. I wasn’t sure if I’d told you—either of you.” Blake shrugged in embarassment. “I was lonely, and he was there, and well…those abs…”

Yang laughed. “Don’t blame you in the least.” None of them brought up the aborted threesome between Yang, Blake and Sun, interrupted by the remainder of Team RWBY. That was something all of them had agreed not to talk about. 

Ruby nodded. “Me neither.” Her cheeks burned a little; Ruby wouldn’t have been human if she hadn’t imagined what it must be like to feel those abdominals under her hands, warm to the touch, as Sun gently took her on some Vacuoan beach. Ruby was indeed human, and she slammed the shot back to get rid of those thoughts. It burned on the way down, and Yang and Blake watched her expectantly. Ruby’s eyes watered a bit, and she coughed, but then she held out the shot glass. “That’s not too bad! Can I have some more?”

Yang poured her another shot. “No more after this, Rubes. You’re not used to liquor, and I bet you’re a lightweight.”

“Ha! I bet I’m not!”

Blake motioned at their team leader with her glass. “With your metabolism? I agree with Yang.” She leaned back in her chair. “Anyway, like I said, Yang…it doesn’t matter. For one thing, you didn’t actually sleep with Jaune—not have sex, anyway. And I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did. In fact,” she said, “in some ways, I wished you had.”

“Why’s that?” Yang wanted to know.

“I don’t know. Maybe it would’ve helped.” She shrugged. “I won’t lie. Just having Sun make love to me made me feel like someone cared—like I had a friend.” Blake chuckled. “That sort of makes me sound like a slut, like sex is just something you do to feel good when you get the itch. But I really did need someone then.” She glanced at Ruby. “You listening?”

“You’re not my mom, Blake. Or my supervisor.” Ruby smiled, to let the Faunus know it was a joke. “I’ll admit I’ve thought about Sun hot and naked. And Jaune.” Yang snorted, and Ruby kicked her sister’s chair. “What? He’s good looking!”

“Well, since we’re all being honest with each other…I sort of half expected to find out you two had hooked up on the road to Mistral, Rubes.”

“Oh?” Blake raised an eyebrow. “And you didn’t immediately demolish Jaune when you got to Haven.”

“Women’s intutition. I knew he hadn’t been with Ruby.” Yang paused. “And I asked Nora.”

“Ah ha.” 

Ruby shrugged. “I thought about it. More than once.” She blushed again. Not even the worst torture Salem could devise would pry out the sexual fantasies Ruby had about Jaune on the road to Mistral. There had been nights she had sneaked out of the camp, found a secluded tree or bushes, and gave into her fantasies about making love to Jaune under the stars. 

Unfortunately for Ruby, Salem’s torture was no match for a big sister’s knowledge. “Double-clicking the mouse over Jauney, Rubes?”

“Well…” Ruby drank some more schnapps.

Blake laughed. “Ruby, don’t worry about it. Hell, _I’ve_ thought about it. Jaune’s really grown up. The tail end of puberty hit that boy like a truck.”

Yang put a hand to her chest. “Blake Belladonna! You mean to tell me you’ve thought about other people besides I, Yang Xiao Long?”

“All the time. I can’t think of how many times I’ve imagined Jaune, or Sun, or Cardin Winchester between my legs during our, ah, sessions.” Blake watched both of them. Yang’s smile faded, and Ruby’s eyes widened. The Faunus broke into laughter. “Wow. And you two give Weiss hell about being gullible!” Yang looked hurt, so Blake stood up, went over, and kissed her lover on the forehead. “I never think about anyone but you, Yang,” she whispered in her ear. 

“Awww,” Yang said, grabbed Blake by the hair, and kissed her hard on the lips. Ruby politely looked away. Blake sat back down, and looked at Ruby. “You know, Ruby…I never asked your permission.”

“For what?”

“To date your sister.”

Yang and Ruby both laughed. “Well, it’s totally okay with me!” Ruby told her. She wiggled a finger in Blake’s face. “Better not break her heart, Blake! I will totally go silver-eyed warrior on your ass!”

“That only works on Grimm.”

Ruby gave her a sinister look. “Break Yang’s heart, Blake, and I will _consider_ you Grimm.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Rubes.” Yang sipped at the schnapps. Her tolerance was a lot higher than the others, but she wasn’t in the mood to get drunk. “Well, anyhow…glad you’re not mad, Blake. I was kinda worried you would be.”

“Again, don’t think anything about it, Yang. Like I said, I wouldn’t blame you in the least if you _had_ made love to him.” The Faunus looked in the general direction of Jaune’s room. “I wonder if Weiss knows just what a catch she has there. Jaune is a good man. Even Pyrrha would approve.”

“She always insists that Jaune isn’t her boyfriend,” Yang pointed out. “But did you see how quick she was to apologize to him after that prank we pulled in the shower the other day?”

“And what was with her smelling like peppermint during Nondescript Winter Holiday?” Ruby added. Of course, _she_ had dressed in only a ribbon for Oscar, but that was different. Oscar had carefully removed the ribbon, not licked it off of her. Ruby quickly finished off her shot; that gave her some lewd ideas that she probably shouldn’t have. She was beginning to wonder if she was a nymphomaniac.

“Hmm.” Blake rubbed her chin in thought. “I have an idea, but it’s probably a terrible one.”

“Well, let’s hear it,” Yang told her.

“Yeah, we’re Team RWBY,” Ruby said. “We’re all about terrible ideas.”

“Here’s what I think we should do…”

About twenty minutes later, Weiss Schnee knocked twice, and then opened the door of Team RWBY’s dorm room. She had begun knocking before walking in; there had been too many times she’d walked in unannounced to find one or more of her fellow team members naked, naked and screaming in orgasm, naked and wrestling, or naked and in an attempted threesome. Nothing weird confronted her this time: both Blake and Yang were in bed, reading, while Ruby was playing a first person shooter on the computer, and all three were in their sleepwear, though it was still relatively early in the evening. Weiss noted that Ruby was being unusually muted for playing a game; usually she was cackling as she mowed down her enemies, in a fashion Salem would find unsettling. “Everyone’s rather quiet tonight,” she commented.

“Yo, Weiss,” Ruby said absently.

“Just reading,” Blake replied. Yang threw Weiss a flip of a wave. 

Weiss put Myrtenaster in the weapons rack. She was about to say something more on the unusual tranquility of the Team RWBY room when Ruby suddenly shouted “Yeah! Die, Grimm! _Die die die!”_ Her triumphant cheer drowned out the death throes of a Boarbatusk. Satisfied that all was right in the world—after a glance to see that Blake was indeed reading _Ninjas of Love XIII: Sweet Pollination_ and Yang was reading a comic book with superheroes beating the hell out of each other—Weiss took off and hung up her coat. “I need to grab a shower. I was helping Jaune with the kids today, and they were little Grimm themselves.” 

“Don’t use all the hot water,” Yang told her. Weiss rolled her eyes—she didn’t soak in the shower for hours on end, like _some_ Huntresses—and went into the bathroom. 

As soon as the door closed, Yang nodded at Ruby, who logged out of the game. In bare feet, she padded over to the bathroom door and flattened herself against the side, as if getting ready for a breach. As soon as she heard the shower cut on, she gave the high sign to her sister. Yang rolled out of her bunk, as did Blake, and took out her Scroll. She quickly dialed up VOMIT BOY. “Hey, Jauney!” she said. “You busy? Awesome! Come on over. I feel like kicking your ass at _Murder Death Kill 5000_ tonight. Great! See you in five, meat.” Yang hung up. “On his way.”

Blake turned off the lights while Yang opened the curtains, so that the room was lit by the lights of Atlas Academy. She threw Ruby a thumbs-up, who took a deep breath, silently opened the door to the bathroom, and slipped in.

Jaune knocked on the dorm room door (he’d been interrupted once or twice himself). He was wearing Academy issue sweat pants and a T-shirt; normally, when just hanging out by himself, he just wore his shorts, but thought that might be too distracting for Weiss. _Call me meat,_ Jaune thought. _I’ll show you, Yang! I’ve been practicing._

“Come in!”

Jaune opened the door to the room and walked in, but stopped three steps in. For one thing, the room was semi-dark; for another, the only one standing there was Blake. He managed to suppress jumping at the sight of her: those two glowing yellow eyes would scare the hell out of a Grimm. The rest of Team RWBY was nowhere to be seen, though he heard the shower running in the bathroom. 

“Hello, Jaune.” Blake’s voice dripped with pure, unpasteurized sex. Despite himself, Jaune felt those sultry tones go straight from his ears to his penis; there were few men on Remnant who didn’t find themselves attracted to Blake, and a good number of women, too. There was just something exotic and mysterious about her.

“Uh, Blake?” Jaune asked, but then took a step back as Blake reached up and pulled her yukata off her shoulders. It fell to the floor with a whisper. The two luminous eyes never left Jaune’s as Blake’s hands came up to her breasts, ran over her jutting nipples, slid down her flanks, and hooked into her black panties. Those slid down her legs to puddle at her feet. Jaune gulped. “B-B-Blake? What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Blake said as she stepped out of the panties. “We wanted to thank you, Jaune. For always being there for us. Team RWBY.”

“I, uh…what?” Jaune’s mind whirled. Not that long ago, Yang and Blake had showed up in his own dorm room, where Yang had proposed a threesome. He’d been relieved when Blake had refused; the whole thing had been a misunderstanding by the brawler over Blake’s love of lemon cream pies, as opposed to the sexual kind of creampies. Jaune corrected himself: he’d been relieved, and sort of still was, but he had thought about what would happen if he and Blake had agreed to it.

And now it seemed like Blake, at least, _had_ agreed to it.

Blake held out her arms and licked her lips. “Come to me, Jaune.”

“But…I…um…”

“Or maybe you want to ride the dragon instead of petting the kitty, Jauney?” He’d been so transfixed by the sight of the naked Faunus that he hadn’t heard the door shut. Or noticed Yang standing behind him. He tried to turn around, but instead felt the softness of Yang’s breasts press into his back, and her arms around his chest. Yang’s lips brushed his neck. “Hmm? You’ve always been such a good friend…you’ve always picked us up when we were down. You’ve always been there for us. So we wanted to thank you for it.” Her fingers went down and grabbed his T-shirt. Jaune abruptly remembered that Yang was stronger than he was, as she pulled the shirt over his head. “Mmm. You’re not a noodle anymore, Jaune. So good looking.” Her fingers played over his chest, then lingered there as Yang walked past him. Jaune’s eyes went straight to Yang’s shapely rear as she walked to Blake; he didn’t know _walking_ could be erotic, but Yang was proving it. 

When Yang reached her lover, she kissed Blake deeply, turning their heads so Jaune could see all of it. “Hey, Blakey,” Yang murmured as Blake licked her cheek, “I think he likes it.”

“Mmm, he does,” Blake said, her eyes falling on Jaune’s crotch. Jaune knew he was getting rather hard, jutting against the sweat pants, and he quickly covered his erection with his hands, pushing it down. 

Yang turned around, putting her arm around Blake. Both stood, one leg bent in front of the other, hiding their nether parts, and yet drawing attention to them. “What do you say, Jaune? You want to be the meat in a girl sandwich…or do you want to watch?” She slid slowly to her knees, her hands drifting down an unresisting Blake, to rest her head on the Faunus’ hip and rub against it, like a cat—which Jaune thought was somewhat ironic, but hot as hell. 

Jaune rubbed his eyes. _This has to be a dream. I must’ve fallen asleep. There is no way in Salem’s purple perdition that this is happening. Yeah, that’s it. I’m dreaming._ That brought up the question, however: if this was a dream, why not join in? Dreams were okay; Weiss wouldn’t be offended, and in fact might even think it was funny. In his dream, making mind-bending love to Yang and Blake would be perfectly fine. 

Blake crooked a finger, beckoning him. He took a step forward, but then stopped. What if it _wasn’t_ a dream?

Weiss hummed to herself as she showered, then switched off the water and pulled back the curtain. She nearly screamed when she saw Ruby standing against the door like she was trying to hold it shut. “Ruby! Gods! What in heavens are you doing in here?” She covered herself, but then stopped; Ruby had seen Weiss naked more than Jaune had. 

“Uh, hey, Weiss,” Ruby said. “Um, listen. I wanted to talk to you about, uh…the Amity thing.”

Weiss stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. “I’m fairly certain that could wait until I’m not dripping wet and naked.”

“Well, uh…sure, but it’s kind of urgent, because, er, your sister called, and she, um, needs to know…”

Weiss stopped toweling herself off and speared Ruby with a stare. The temperature in the bathroom dropped five degrees. “Ruby Rose. You are a terrible liar and always have been.”

Ruby sighed. “Okay, okay. You’re right. It’s not about Amity. Uh, it’s my sister and Blake. They’re…well…having sex. And they told me to go away.”

Weiss almost told Ruby that she was going to throw her into the bathtub headfirst if her battle partner kept lying, but that almost had the ring of truth. There was no telling what Blake and Yang would get up to when they flew their freak flag, as Nora liked to say, so it was entirely plausible that Yang had suddenly been seized with the desire to have her fields plowed by a certain Faunus catgirl, and premptorily ordered Ruby to get lost. The only problem with that theory was that Ruby probably would’ve headed over to Oscar’s to fly her _own_ freakish flag, not hide in the bathroom with Weiss. Moreover, as depraved as Weiss thought Yang and Blake often were, the two _did_ tend to be discreet: they would not be having sex if a certain former Schnee heiress could walk in on them, much less hear, see, and possibly smell them.

“I don’t believe you,” Weiss said coldly. 

Ruby was near panic. She knew she wasn’t a good liar, but the plan depended on timing, and Yang hadn’t given the signal yet. If Weiss stepped out now, the whole thing would be ruined. She couldn’t hear anything through it—there was no telling if Jaune was even in the room yet—so Ruby racked her brain, trying to think of a delaying tactic.

And she came up with one. Desperate, Ruby grabbed Weiss and kissed her on the lips.

Weiss’ eyes grew to platter size, and she dropped her towel in utter amazement. Ruby had always been a serial hugger and affectionate to her friends, but this was something entirely different. She would have screamed when Ruby’s hands suddenly grabbed a double handful of Weiss’ rear end, but her friend’s liplock prevented that—along with oxygen. Weiss managed to pry Ruby off of her. “Ruby, what in the absolute fuck?” Weiss rarely used the f-bomb, and usually when she was either enraged or in complete shock. 

“I want you, Weiss,” Ruby said, breathily. “I want to take you right here. On the bathroom floor. Which I totally cleaned yesterday.” She half-closed her eyes and licked her lips. “Please, Weiss. I need it. I need it bad.”

Weiss had been trained since weaning on how to assess a situation. She did so at this point. There were several possibilites, all of which hinting that Ruby Rose was not in her right mind. One was that Ruby had finally gone insane, which Weiss had anticipated since the early days at Beacon. Another was that Ruby had slipped and fallen and suffered a concussion sometime during Weiss’ shower. A third was that Ruby had somehow consumed more of the “special cookies” she’d accidentally made one time, which were loaded with Vacuoan aphrodisiac. 

The fourth, and most plausible one, was that Ruby had somehow been afflicted with lust magic, undoubtedly Salem’s doing, and had for some reason latched onto Weiss as an object of affection. (Weiss admitted that she was somewhat flattered by this.) While this was the most likely event, aside from sudden insanity, it didn’t explain why Weiss was affected—unless being in the shower had somehow countered the effects. If so, she might be the only sane person left in Atlas Academy right now. 

Weiss stiffarmed Ruby to one side. “There is still a Huntress that draws breath, Salem!”

_Salem?_ Ruby thought. She grabbed Weiss’ arm. “No, Weiss! Stay here! Make love to me! Take me, Weiss!” Becoming more desperate, Ruby grabbed her pajama top and pulled up to her neck. She didn’t wear a bra to bed, of course, so her breasts bobbed out. “Suck on these sweater puppies, Weiss! They’re yours!”

If Weiss hadn’t been so convinced that the Undead Queen of the Grimm was standing in the dorm hallway, cackling madly as Blake and Yang were forced to bring each other to orgasm after orgasm, Ren savagely railing Nora against the wall, and Jaune and Oscar forced to service Salem while the witch laughed and laughed, she might have burst into mirth at Ruby's horrible attempt at seduction. Instead, Weiss felt her rage building, even as she fended off Ruby’s attempts to hold onto her. How dare Salem! Jaune was _her_ man, not that evil pasty bitch’s, and she would die a thousand times screaming before she would allow Salem to have her way with Jaune. 

Weiss heard laughing, and flung open the door. She was naked, still wet from the shower, but she didn’t care: she still had her glyph magic and her Semblance, and she’d bathe in the witch’s blood if she had to. 

To her stunned surprise, Jaune was in the room, and it was worse than she’d anticipated: Salem wasn’t having her way with Jaune—she was forcing Yang and Blake to have _their_ way with him! Furious—and terrified—at the lengths Salem would go to destroy her and her friends, Weiss, now as desperate as Ruby, tried to think of a way to snap Jaune out of it. He was standing in front of her two friends, both of whom were nude and clearly trying to seduce Jaune, and Weiss saw in horror that Jaune was as erect as she’d ever seen him, though he was trying not to show it. _He’s resisting Salem’s magic! I can do this!_ Weiss flung out a hand, and said the only words that she knew would work. “Jaune, don’t! _I love you!”_

Jaune stopped. This couldn’t be a dream. It felt too real. He’d always known when he was dreaming, somehow: like when he dreamed of standing over Salem’s blackened corpse, or chopping Cinder Fall’s head off, or when a ghostly Pyrrha made love to him. Something was going on here, but it wasn’t a dream.

He didn’t have Weiss’ training, and to be fair, Jaune’s judgement was swamped by the sight of two of the most attractive women he’d ever met naked and caressing each other, wanting him to join them. His only assessment was that Yang and Blake were serious, they really wanted the threesome, and he wanted to join them with every fiber of his being. Lust flowed through him like dark water, and his erection screamed for the attention of either the brawler or the Faunus—or anything, just to relieve the pressure. 

But he stopped. Jaune hung his head. “I’m…I’m sorry,” he said, then raised up and spoke clearly. “Yang, Blake, I appreciate it. But I can’t. I want to, gods, I want to. But I can’t.” He smiled, even as the bathroom door suddenly slammed open, and felt his eyes tear up. “I love Weiss. I won’t betray her.”

“Jaune, don’t!” Weiss screamed. _“I love you!”_

Everyone in the room froze for a minute and stared at each other, all the more awkward as half the people were stark naked. Yang was the first one to react. She jumped to her feet and high-fived Blake. “Yes! Operation Admit It is a success!”

“What?” Jaune and Weiss said it at the same time.

Blake brushed past a still frozen Jaune and switched on the lights, then quickly walked over and grabbed her kimono to get dressed. Yang didn’t care. She stood in the center of the room, hands on her hips, legs spread in triumph. “It worked! Ha! I knew it would!”

“Yang,” Weiss said, still so shocked that she hadn’t remembered she was _also_ standing there without a stitch on, “what are you talking about? What is going on? Where’s Salem?”

“Salem?” Ruby came out of the bathroom. “What’s Salem got to do with it?”

“But…I thought…Ruby kissed me…and I heard laughing…and Jaune’s standing there with a hard-on…and Blake and Yang are naked…and…” Weiss looked from all of them to the other. “Huh?” she finally said, helplessly. 

Blake tied her kimono on. “It was my idea, Weiss.”

“Ahem! We all worked on it!” Yang amended. “Though I don’t remember anything about Ruby kissing Weiss…”

“It was my idea,” Blake repeated, with a you-be-quiet look in Yang’s direction. “The two of you have been sitting there dodging the question for weeks, Weiss—and you too, Jaune. Weiss keeps saying that you’re not her boyfriend, but you are. And you’ve been going along with it because you’re afraid of offending her.” Blake leveled a finger at the two of them in turn. “Well, it stops now. Weiss, you are Jaune’s girlfriend. Jaune, you are Weiss’ boyfriend.” Then she smiled. “And now we know that yes, you do love each other, and that’s very sweet. Not to mention, _about damn time._ ”

Ruby tied a towel around an unresisting Weiss. She still wore an expression of mystification, so Ruby decided it was her turn to explain. “Anyways, we came up with this idea. While you were in the shower, Weiss, I’d distract you long enough for Yang to get Jaune over here. Blake and Yang would strip for him and offer him a threesome—“

That brought Weiss out of her shock. “They _what?!”_

“But we weren’t really going to do it!” Yang picked up the story. “We were just going to put on a show until you came out of the shower. We figured that Jaune wouldn’t go through with it, and tell us that he loved you—or at least wouldn’t stray on you.” Yang winked at him. “Jaune, when I wasn’t in my right mind back at Dad’s house, and I tried to seduce you, you refused because you thought it would be taking advantage of me when I was a bit on the crazy side. So I knew you weren’t going to jump me and Blake, because you’re not that kind of guy.”

“Um, sure,” Jaune finally spoke. He was glad Yang was sure of it, because despite his words, he wondered if he’d been able to resist much longer. What if Yang or Blake had grabbed him or kissed him after he’d proclaimed his love for Weiss? 

“Sorry about the kissing thing, Weiss…and the other stuff,” Ruby said, going red. “I needed to buy some time.”

Weiss glared at her teammates. “This is…so stupid…so utterly ridiculous…so…so… _Team RWBY!”_ she shouted. “Which is why I believe you’re telling the truth!”

Yang spread her hands. “Forgive us?”

“We had to get it into the open,” Blake told her.

“It was for you two,” Ruby said, taking Weiss’ hands in hers. “We love you guys, you know that. We just want you to be happy.”

“I should murder all three of you.” Weiss’ expression softened, and she smiled. “But you’re my friends, as insane and silly and idiotic as you may be sometimes.”

“Jaune?” Yang turned to him. “Sorry, man. We knew you’d never admit it as long as Weissy didn’t.”

"We didn't know what else to do," Ruby said.

"I hope you're not angry with us," Blake finished.

Jaune didn’t say anything at first. “Well…I guess…I mean, I’m a little pissed. You could’ve just asked me to say something.”

“Would you have?” Blake questioned.

“Probably not.” Jaune sighed, then grinned. “I can’t stay mad at you guys. But please, don’t do something like this again, okay?”

“You bet!” Ruby chirped.

“And in the meantime…” Jaune strode over to Weiss, and picked her up. She gasped in surprise, and her towel fell off. “I’m going to prove to the most beautiful girl on Remnant how much I love her.” He threw the remainder of Team RWBY a salute, and with the utmost of dignity, left the room. Nora and Ren happened to be leaning out of their own dorm, wondering at the noise coming from Team RWBY’s room, and saw Jaune, clad only in his sweats, holding a nude Weiss, heading towards his room. “And what are _you_ up to, Jaune?” Nora said, grinning.

“He’s going to make love to me,” Weiss answered, snuggling close. “And I’ll thank you to stop staring. I don’t feel like sharing the man I love with anyone. _Anyone.”_ She threw an accusatory stare back towards Team RWBY’s room.

“Love?” Ren nodded with a smile. “I expect you to uphold the honor of Team JNPR, Jaune.” His friend nodded back and went into his own room as Weiss let out a happy, girlish giggle.

“Well, that worked,” Blake remarked. “I don’t know how, but it did.”

“Good plan,” Yang told her.

They stood there in silence for a few moments, then Ruby headed for the door. “Going to see Oscar!” she announced as she left.

Yang looked over at Blake, who undid the belt of her yukata and threw it aside. “Bed or floor?” she asked.

“Bed. And get the lights. Those eyes of yours turn me on. Among other things.”

Blake did as asked. As Yang jumped onto Blake’s bunk, the Faunus asked, “Yang…what if Jaune had accepted? What if he _had_ decided on the threesome?”

Yang drew her lover down to the bunk. “I would’ve done him… _if_ you did too.” She kissed Blake. “I love you, Blakey. We’re in this together.”

“Love you too, Yang.” She lay down next to Yang, running her fingers over a nipple. “I would’ve done him too,” she said softly. 

Yang poked her nose. “And what if Weiss had joined in?”

“I was actually thinking of inviting her, if Jaune had accepted. Mainly to keep her from killing us.” Blake chuckled. “And something tells me Weiss just might have done it.”

“Or she would’ve set us on fire. Oh well.” Yang pushed Blake over and straddled her. “Now then. You feel like eating at Yang’s?”

Blake smirked at her. “I feel like watching, actually.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it. Probably some readers will be not too happy that Jaune, Blake and Yang didn't end up in a threesome, but I just don't think Jaune would go through with it--at least not in the way I've always written him. If he wasn't already established with Weiss, yeah, I don't think he could resist that--but he is, in this story, so I'm sticking with that. But we do know that the Lusty Girls had almost broken him down, and Blake and Yang would've gone through with it. (I did think about an alternate ending where they *do*, and Weiss joins in, but we'll see about that one. I don't have any ideas on what to do with that...at least, not yet.) That said, Jaune has always struck me as a monogamous guy, and Weiss, given her upbringing and personality, won't share either. (Ghost Pyrrha is a different story.)
> 
> Adding Ruby trying to sort-of seduce Weiss was a last minute thing, but was hilarious to write. A lot of ships in this convoy--White Knight, Bumblebee, Dragonslayer, Knightshade, and White Rose! 
> 
> Anyway, with Season 8 again delayed, the next chapter will probably have some spoilers from last week's episode. It's time for Fun With Salem and Emerald (and Hazel, and Yang, and Oscar, and Jaune).


	82. Eternal Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ozma's been reincarnated by the God of Light (known hereafter as GOL), but despite the GOL's advice, he's going to find Salem. And when he does find her, and sees how she's changed, what will he do?
> 
> Well, you know how this fic goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CJ Lowder suggested doing something about Ozma and Salem when they reunited, and that sounded better than my Emerald/Salem idea tonight (I actually want to wait on that until after this week's episode). I will get back to that, but for now, enjoy. This fic is a little funny, a little sad, and a little dark. Unfortunately, it's also something of a foregone conclusion...

Ozma came awake with a gasp. He sat up out of instinct, reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. In fact, there wasn’t anything at all there: he was naked, in a featureless world of pure white. “Where am I?” he asked, but there was no one there. He got to his feet and walked around, but the world did not change.

“Ozma.”

Ozma whirled around and found himself staring into the silver eyes of a golden dragon. “Holy shit!” he screamed, and jumped backwards. “What the hell is _that?”_

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Take it easy, dude!” The dragon disappeared in a light somehow brighter than the white background, then reformed into a golden, masculine figure, glowing from inside. His face had features and didn’t, like a sculptor had not quite finished it, and golden antlers rose from his head. “Sorry about that, Ozma. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Ozma’s jaw dropped. “You’re…you’re the…”

“God of Light, yes.” Ozma fell to his knees, but the God of Light held up a hand. “That’s not necessary. I never did like it when people groveled. More my brother’s thing, actually.” 

Ozma got to his feet, then covered himself. The God of Light nodded in understanding, and waved a hand. Cargo shorts and a flowery shirt suddenly clad Ozma. “Nudity doesn’t bother me, but I totally understand. That better?”

“A little odd, but yes, thank you, sir.” Ozma felt a bow wouldn’t be out of place. “Where am I?” he asked as he straightened up. “I suppose that I’m dead.”

“Yes, several times over. Sorry about that as well.” The God of Light strode around Ozma. “We are between realms. I’m afraid a tragedy has befallen your home at the hands of my brother.”

“What was it?”

“Oh, he just killed everyone on the planet and blew up the moon.” The GOL shook his head. “My brother can be kind of a dick. I mean, the people should’ve known better than to rebel against their gods, but damn.” He waved it off. “Anyway, we’ve chosen to depart this world, but in our absence, I would like to offer you a chance to return to it.”

“I don’t understand,” Ozma said. “Is man still alive? Can woman survive?”

“Mankind is no more, yet your world remains,” the GOL replied, ignoring the rather obscure reference. “And in time, your kind will grow to walk its face once again. However, without our presence, they will be but a fraction of what they once were.”

“Just a remnant,” Ozma sighed.

“Say, that’s catchy,” the GOL agreed. “Anyhow…” From the air, the GOL conjured four objects: a staff, a sword, a crown, and a lamp, all ornate, all glowing with inherent power. “Creation, destruction, choice and knowledge were the ideals upon which humanity was made. Now I leave them behind with the hope that you will learn to remake yourselves. I’m cool like that.” He brought the four objects together into a yellow sphere of pure energy. (Tell me what’s on your mind.) “Now, if you or someone else brings these Relics together, they will summon my brother and I back to your world, and humanity will be judged. If your kind has quit being assholes to each other and set aside their differences, we shall once again live among you, and humanity will be made whole again. Follow me so far?”

“I think so,” Ozma answered. “But what happens if humanity _hasn’t_ put aside its differences?”

“Then mankind will be found irredeemable and your world will be wiped from existence.” The GOL slapped Ozma on the back. “No pressure, though.”

“Great,” Ozma groaned. “And I’m supposed to do this in one life?”

“Nah, that would be silly. Until your task is complete, you will reincarnate, but in a manner that ensures you are never alone. Neat, huh?”

Ozma was quiet for a long moment, then hung his head. “I’m sorry, but...that world just isn’t as dear to me without her. If I may, I’d rather return to the afterlife to see Salem.”

The GOL scratched the back of his head. “Boy, this is awkward. Um…Salem still lives, but the woman you hold dear in your memories is gone—“

“You mean she isn’t gone?” Hope crept into Ozma’s voice. “Salem’s still alive? How can this be?” Ozma did a fist pump. “My babe is still alive!” He was so happy that it didn’t occur to Ozma to ask the GOL _how_ Salem was still alive, since humanity had sort of been wiped out. 

The GOL put a hand on Ozma’s shoulder. “Look, I know what you’re thinking…since I’m a god and all…and it’s not a good idea, man. She’s changed. Where you seek comfort, you will only find pain. Trust me on this. So, will you—“

“I’ll do it!” Ozma was clearly still thinking of Salem.

The GOL sighed. Some people had to learn by doing. “Very well. Our creation rests within your hands, Ozma. Good luck, buddy. See you on the flip side.” Ozma disappeared in a flash of light, to suddenly wake up in the body of a man he didn’t know, in the middle of a Grimm attack. Back in the afterlife, the GOL began to walk away. “I sure hope he doesn’t go looking for her.”

Years later, Ozma went looking for Salem. He had heard rumors—always told with a look over one’s shoulder and said in a whisper—of a sorceress, a witch that lived in a wild forest, who could turn people to stone with a look, change others to beasts, and even command the Grimm. Ozma was sure this had to be Salem: even when he had rescued her from the tower, her command of magic was unrivaled. Her father really should have known better than to shut her inside of a tower with nothing to do but learn, Ozma remembered with a smile. He also remembered the God of Light’s warning, but he had to see her. Even if she was more Grimm than woman, twisted and evil, even if she was an old crone covered in warts and oozing corruption, Ozma had to know what had become of his Lady in the Tower. 

And now he would. It had taken months of searching, and weeks of fighting through monsters of all kinds, but Ozma—even in this new body—knew how to fight. It was the one thing he was exceptional at. Now he was here, standing in front of a cottage. It had seen better days: the wood was split in places, the roof needed some work, the windows were crudely boarded up, and the chimney would not pass inspection. Ozma took a deep breath. “Hello in the house! Is there anyone there?”

There was silence for a few minutes, then the door creaked open. Beyond was darkness, but something moved. Then she appeared, and Ozma, who had steeled himself for the worst, had his breath taken away.

She had changed, no doubt: the pale skin was now alabaster white; the blue eyes he could lose himself in were now blood red on a field of pure black. Her blond hair was bleached to almost gray. She wore a red-trimmed black robe that hugged the curves he remembered so well. Her glare could freeze a sun, but then they lost their rage, grew wide, and her mouth dropped open. “It…can’t…” she whispered.

Ozma knew he looked different as well. The body he’d ended up in was as muscular as his old form, honed in farming and battle, but he no longer wore ornate armor—instead, he wore plain slacks and a dirty T-shirt. He was no longer the swarthy, brown-haired hero of her memory; his skin was tanned by the sun, but his hair was blond.

And yet she knew him, as he knew her.

He felt tears running down his face. “It’s me, Salem,” he struggled out over the lump in his throat. “It’s me.”

“ _Ozma!”_ she cried, and dashed down the steps to embrace him. She grabbed his cheeks, and stared in those strange eyes that were yet not strange at all. Then she kissed him, her lips cool and moist, but filled with all the love he remembered. His rough hands curled around her back, and he returned the kiss with everything he had. 

She broke the kiss, and stared up at him. “I don’t understand,” she said, her own eyes filling with tears. “How?”

“The God of Light,” Ozma began to explain. “He sent me back—“ He stopped, remembering the GOL’s words. Salem had indeed changed. What if she rejected him, when his task was to reunite humanity and bring the Gods back? She would undoubtedly have some lingering hatred for them. “He sent me back,” he finished.

Had she not been so giddy with seeing the man she’d pined for over millennia, Salem might have realized that her beloved was not telling the whole truth, but she didn’t notice. “Well,” she sniffled, “he owed me one.” 

They kissed again. He grinned down at her. The truth could wait. “What do we do now?” he asked her.

“Whatever we like,” she laughed—the words they’d once said to each other, so long ago. Her fingers traced down his chest, played with the green gem on his necklace. “And you know what I’d like?”

He knew damn well what she wanted, but he teased her all the same. “And what’s that?”

“Ozma, you big stud.” She licked at his lips. “Take me to bed or lose me forever. Er…again.”

Ozma’s grin got bigger—among other things—and he picked her up in his arms. She let out a happy whoop (confusing the hell out of some nearby Beowolves, who shrugged to each other and moved on) and let him carry her over the threshold of the cottage.

And nearly trip and fall, because it was so dark. “Sorry,” she said, and clapped her hands. Candles mystically came to life, lighting the cottage. The interior was in not much better shape than the outside: it was clean enough, but sparse with furniture, and the boards creaked under Ozma’s feet. “It’s not much,” she confessed. “I just haven’t…felt like doing much as of late.”

“There’s a bed, right?” He kissed her nose. “I really don’t want to make love to you on this floor. Might get splinters in your butt.”

“Who says you get to be on top?” she teased, and pointed at a door. He opened it to a small bedroom. This room was in better shape, with some carpets thrown on the floor almost randomly, two shelves filled with books stacked in any fashion—but all he cared about was the bed. It wasn’t made, but neither cared. He set Salem down on her feet. She was trembling, but so was he. “I’m sorry I look different,” he told her.

“I look _much_ different,” she replied. She looked away. “Not in a good way.”

“Let me be the judge of that.” He gently pulled the robe off her shoulders. She reached back and undid the clasp, letting it fall to her feet, leaving her naked; she’d worn no underwear, but Ozma figured she probably didn’t see the need for it, alone in the woods. 

Salem’s body hadn't changed all that much, he thought as his eyes ran down her figure. Her breasts were still large, a little larger than her slender frame would suggest; her stomach was flat, maybe a little skinny—he idly wondered if she even needed to eat, now—and tapered down to those wonderful legs that he’d always loved so much. Her hands came down to cover her breasts and crotch. “Don’t,” she whispered, and tried to move away. “This isn’t a good idea after all.” Tears drifted down her cheeks. “I did something terrible, Ozma. I’m…I’m ugly. Hideous.”

“You’re beautiful.” He smoothed her hair back, kissed her, then gently took away the hand covering her breasts. Her nipples were no longer the deep pink of his memory, but shading to a dark gray. Then he moved the other hand. The blond pubic hair was gone completely, leaving a bare mound; the lips beneath were the same gray of her nipples. Salem sobbed, hating herself, hating what she looked like now, and put her face in her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“I love you, Salem.” Once more, he pulled her hands away, and kissed away her tears. “I will always love you. No matter what happens, ever. I will always love you.”

She was still crying, so Ozma decided it was time for deeds, not words. He bent down and licked both nipples, causing her breath to catch in her throat. "These still work." Then his kisses went lower, and Salem felt her thighs being gently pried apart. "And this does too. In fact, I kind of like it." He brushed his lips against her now smooth groin. "I bet you save a fortune on razor blades now." His fingers pushed her folds apart; they were moist and ready.

“Ozmaaa…” she moaned, when she felt his tongue there. She nearly fell, and he had to catch her. "It's been so long," she explained. "So long since...I've truly loved someone." Ozma set her down on the bed. That left her eye level with his groin, and there was no mistaking the bulge in his pants. She dried her eyes and smiled. “I think I still remember how to do this.” She reached forward, undid his belt, unzipped his pants, and pulled them down to his knees; Ozma stepped out of them, even as he discarded the T-shirt. Salem pulled down his underwear, and his erection popped free in front of her. “Um…I know I’m not what you remember either,” he said awkwardly.

Salem inspected him. “Blond. Hmm. I suppose I could get used to it.” She gripped him, eliciting a groan from Ozma. “It’s been awhile, but…I think you may be larger now.” To his surprise, because the Salem he’d known had always been something of a prude, she leaned forward and flicked her tongue at the tip. He gulped as she licked her lips. “Tastes about the same, I think.”

“One minute you’re crying, then the next you’re cracking jokes.” Ozma ruffled her hair affectionately. “You didn’t used to be like that, but…I like that, too.”

“I’m just glad you don’t hate me.” She knew she could not tell him the whole truth about what she had done. He _would_ hate her then.

“Never.”

She lay down on the bed and patted the covers next to her. Ozma lay down next to her, and they lay there for a long time, running hands over hips and chests, remembering, getting used to each other again. He drew her close. “Salem,” he said softly, “you should know something. There’s…been other women since I took this form. I’m sorry, but…well…I didn’t even know if you were…what you were.”

Salem nodded. “It’s all right. I haven’t been celibate either. I thought you were long dead, so…” She stroked his cheek. “It doesn’t matter, Ozma. We’re here now.”

“Yes, we are.” He hugged her tightly. “I suppose we should stop talking.”

“Mm. Plenty of time for that later.” She suckled on his neck. “We have all the time in the world.”

He drew Salem’s leg over his own, and tried to position himself to enter her…and missed. “Sorry.” Then he missed again. “Damn.”

Salem laughed. “And I thought it had been awhile for me! Here…” She guided him into her with a hand, then sighed as he sank deep--before she gave a sudden start. “Ow!” She bit back a laugh. “Okay, you _are_ bigger.”

“Are you all right?”

“Never better,” Salem answered truthfully. She moved her leg across his rear, encouraging him. It didn’t take much.

The joking, the words stopped, though they never stopped smiling at each other. He pushed into her, slowly at first, then quicker—it had been so terribly long, at that, and he wanted her so much. Sooner than he wanted to, Ozma was thrusting into Salem with abandon, and he felt the pressure building. It was too soon. He wanted to make it longer, make it better, and was afraid he wouldn’t satisfy her. Salem’s face was buried in his shoulder, and he could hear her muffled moans, but as he hit the point of no return, cursing himself for not being able to last, Salem suddenly threw her head back and screamed at the top of her lungs. Thunder rumbled in the distance and the skies darkened, but Ozma didn’t even notice, lost in the woman he loved, as she screamed again and again in fulfillment, until he shot his seed deep within her. Her screams faded to whimpers, and they held each other so tight that their fingers would leave red marks. “I love you,” she rasped, her voice ragged and dry. “I love you.”

Finally, they sagged apart, and lay in bed, puffing. To his mild surprise, he saw her conjure a canteen of water, take a long drink, and hand it to him. He drank deeply; it was the purest water he’d ever tasted. She waved it away to float into a corner of the nearest bookshelf, and blew out her breath. “Whew.”

“Yeah,” Ozma agreed. “Sorry I didn’t last.”

“Oh, that’s all right.” She turned over. “I think we’ll get back into practice.”

“Sure will.” He grinned. “That went better than our first time, though.”

Salem fell back onto her pillow and cackled. “Oh, Ozma! You _would_ bring that up.” She smiled up at the ceiling. “I didn’t know anything. Father had always made sure I wasn’t…educated in that respect. I thought I was bleeding to death when you broke my maidenhood.”

“And I…well, let’s not talk about what I did.”

Salem snorted. “Blew your load all over my breasts?”

“They were the first ones I’d ever seen!”

“The Great Hero Ozma…who didn’t last thirty seconds.”

Ozma found a pillow and hit her with it. “I got better.”

She hit him back. “That’s very true.” She drew him close again. “You got _so_ much better.” Her smile faded. “I was willing to defy the gods to bring you back, Ozma. To fight them.”

“Let’s not talk about the gods,” Ozma told her. He caressed her cheek. “What was it you said? We can do whatever we want?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Right now, all I want is to hold you.”

Salem snuggled close. “I think I can help you with that.” She yawned, feeling more content than she ever had. “I’ll never leave you again, Ozma. Never.”

“Neither will I, my love.” He kissed her hair. “Neither will I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Narrator: But they did. *sniff*
> 
> Clearly, Jinn's version of this was edited for family viewing.


End file.
